#they’re all supermodels I don’t understand

[bambimeadows]

Why is literally every single person in Veilguard, random NPCs and all, so gorgeous, they’re so muggy, why do they all have razor sharp cheekbones and beautiful sparkling eyes. Like don’t even get me started on Irelin and Viago, those face cards are just rude

[elsecrytt]

Your Heart is Spilling out, Babe

Pairing: Satoru Gojo/Reader

Summary: You and Satoru are friends with benefits. No feelings, that was the agreement from the start. Neither of you want anything more. Even if you did, it wouldn’t work out, anyways. Not that you care if it would.

Tags: fwb, smut, angst, YEARNING, requited unrequited feelings (or ARE they) but jk it’s totally no feelings, commitment/abandonment issues, not that it matters because you totally don’t have feelings anyways

“Mmmh… that’s it for me tonight. You can shower before you leave, if you want.”

“Oh? I can’t stay the night?” He asks, “Just gonna pump and dump me? So mean~”

A hum. “Knock yourself out. But you can’t shower in the morning, you’ll wake me up.”

“What a coincidence,” he lays down next to you, “I’m a late sleeper, too.”

You don’t say anything more, eyes already closed.

Satoru’s arm presses your form against his, just barely.

When he wakes up, you’re still laying there beside him, unmoving.

He leaves.

At first, Satoru tries to tell himself it’s a happy coincidence.

After all, isn’t it? His problem has always been the women (and men) who give him a certain kind of look before he gets up to leave.

The ones who text him back first, who read everything instantly, who always want to meet up again. The ones who always, inevitably, start to want something more.

Like him giving them the fuck of a lifetime with someone who could be a real-life supermodel and happens to be the greatest sorcerer on earth wasn’t enough. Granted, they don’t know about the sorcerer thing, but still!

It always turns out like this:

Things are good for a while. Sex is good, he gets attention when he texts them, they both understand this is totally casual, no commitment.

Sometimes he even brings up another hookup he’s going to, just to drive the point home, and he cheers them on when they’re getting some somewhere else, too.

(He’s got no reason to be insecure, after all. He would be anyone’s first choice.)

From there, he can admit some of it is his fault. It’s hard, being as irresistible as he is. Being so devastatingly good-looking and even better in bed.

Having so much humor and personality in his amazing texts (never mind that most of them just react with an emoji or a short haha or an unrelated compliment – he drinks it all up just the same).

They start to text him first, which is impressive, considering what a spammer he is. He likes to text them to fill his time, to talk to someone, have his notifications filled with messages of people who want him.

So what if it’s an ego boost? Isn’t that what they’re using him for, too?

But when they start texting him themselves, when they return his style of badgering, it’s not random and rambling. It’s affectionate, personal. They’ve gotten attached, and they want him to be, too.

It’s all nonsense like Saw this and thought of you, and You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met, and I want to meet up again soon.

He has to stop spamming with memes or selfies or random observations throughout his day, stop talking about shops or cafes he’d like to visit. Sometimes he has to mute their notifications, because when he spams other people, they feel comfortable spamming him.

And then it’s just a matter of how long he spends lying to himself. Because as much of an ass as he is, it’s cruel to let them get attached to him when he can’t really open up entirely. When he doesn’t want anything serious.

In fairness, he had told them from the start. He usually breaks it off only after a few days. He always sends them a message and just blocks them – it’s cleaner that way.

Answering any desperate Please, we can still be friends or No, let’s just hook up again, would give them hope for things he can’t give them.

But you?

You text him You’re the most annoying man I’ve ever met, and leave him on read for two days.

Satoru thinks he’s in love.

Not literally, of course, but in love with the relationship he has with you, which is perfect.

Everything about it is perfect, except for that it’s not going on all the time.

You respond to his memes with your own. Chat with him about cafes and desserts and even keep a handful at your home to treat him with. You text him cat pictures, sometimes return selfies if he’s lucky.

Usually he gets those when he sends the thirst pics, sitting there with a grin that scares Ichiji, absolutely giddy as he watches you type, stop typing – he knows you’re looking for something special to send him back.

It’s surprising, how well he just knows things about you. Maybe that was to be expected, though, with your chemistry.

Sex with you is like nothing he’s ever felt before.

You have this way of tensing up, expression shifting as you’re right about to cum – he thinks by now he’s conditioned by it, that just seeing you make that face could get him over the edge.

He’s fucked hot people before but no one like you. Seeing the same clothes from your cute little selfies slip off, it’s like unwrapping a present he can’t wait to eat up. Makes him salivate like a box of chocolates, like the one truffle package you got one time and made him eat on his knees with his head in your lap, out of your hands.

Fucking you is one of his favorite things ever, right up there with kikufuku and making fun of his coworkers (and students!). You’re a beautiful bend of reactive and pliant, so fun to tease and edge and so rewarding to please.

God, fuck, he wants you. He wants you all the time. All his other hookups are silenced in favor of you, boring conversations abandoned in favor of debating tiramisu and tres leches, and all other sorts of inane things.

What your favorite school subjects are, oddly enough (he supposes he was asking for it, telling you he taught high schoolers).

You like literature, he likes math, and when he hears you talk about it, he almost wants to read some of those novels you like so much. Non-sorcerer politics has never meant anything to him but it matters when he hears you talk about it.

It’s like hearing about a whole separate world with its own struggles. Your opinions are so well-thought out, he can tell just how much you care, and something hums along aside him as he asks questions, nods his head, really listens to what you have to say. It feels so surreal to hear someone whose goals are not so unlike his, when he thinks about it.

Maybe that’s where some of this fondness comes from. Maybe it’s humbling, thinking you want to change your world just as much as he wants to change his, and the only difference is how much people listen.

He can’t imagine not wanting to listen to you. People should listen more. You should run everything, he jokes.

(He’s joking. He’s joking. You don’t know enough to get why he says that twice.)

And then it’s not serious again – when was it ever, really? You talk about your favorite manga and anime and tease each other for your tastes. Maybe talk about episodes or movies you’ve seen together.

He’s admittedly a bit of a movie buff – it’s a real victory when he convinces you to watch one of his old favorites. When he finds out you watched it, he’s excited the whole day to hear what you thought.

You debate what animals you would be; you are definitely a cat – aloof and independent – and you’re quite insistent that he’d be a husky, energetic and annoying and – probably other words you say before he sends you a picture of his dick and you facetime him with some more interesting conversation.

Your days – weeks, months, really – they go on like that, they’re great. Everything is perfect, really.

So when he hears you casually mention you’ve got other dinner plans – when his mind instantly supplies we’re just casual, tease her and hope she gets lucky – the wretched, dark twist in his gut is wholly unexpected.

And he knows instantly. Immediately, really, because he’s just too smart not to.

He knows he doesn’t want you going out with other people. Touching them. Showing them the same faces you show him.

But if he wants you to be his, then he has to ask. And you – you make him wait to hear back.

You never reach out to him first. You open the door with a cool expression, like your heart doesn’t race at the sight of him like his does (he can see it is, he can see it, but his soul is withering at your look like you couldn’t care less).

Satoru doesn’t usually have to ask, not for anything.

People beg to be able to fuck him. They spam when he ghosts them, begging for scraps. He doesn’t have to ask for attention, people shower him in it.

Everyone wants him. They love him. They don’t abandon him along with all their morals and tell him to kill them if he doesn’t like it.

They beg him to stay, and he is the one who leaves.

He’s too much for them. Too much for anyone. You wouldn’t be able to hand him, anyways.

And he can leave any time he wants, he just… doesn’t want to.

(He never wants to leave. He wants it to stay like this, forever. But when does it ever turn out like that?)

Besides, you’re – you also want it to stay casual. Like he told you from the beginning. Probably trying to save your feelings from getting hurt – and can he blame you? Really, with his looks, anyone would be scared to lose him.

So this was just… a happy coincidence. You didn’t want it serious, he didn’t want it, either.

“Mmmh… that’s it for me tonight. You can shower before you leave, if you want.”

Satoru’s lip twitches, but it doesn’t manage a smile. It almost feels like you’re kicking him out.

But he knows you’re not, because even if you were the one person on earth who could resist his irresistible charm, he just gave you some absolutely mind-blowing sex.

“Oh? I can’t stay the night?” Satoru teases, “Just gonna pump and dump me? So mean~”

He says it playfully, casually, because it is casual. It wouldn’t bother him if you told him to fuck off right then and there. It wouldn’t.

You hum noncommittally. “Knock yourself out. But you can’t shower in the morning, you’ll wake me up.”

If he’s relieved that he can stay, it’s because he’s as exhausted as you are. Because you make him feel good, so fucking good, like he’s on top of the world. Having to leave would just be a mood killer.

“What a coincidence,” He purrs, laying next to you on the bed, “I’m a late sleeper, too.”

He is not and never has been. He sleeps three hours a night wakes up by 5am.

It’s never bothered him before. His dreams are not a place he wants to be. But they’ve never hurt him when you were there.

He wraps an arm around you, holding you against him, just barely. Not too tight.

You don’t say anything more. You lay there and let him hold you while you fall asleep.

When he wakes, you’re still laying there beside him, unmoving.

The thing is, you’re awake. He knows that. You’re a light sleeper. Always have been.

He knows you hate morning showers yourself, and always do it at night. Knows what you like for breakfast, how to make it. That you like to sleep in because you have trouble sleeping.

He knows what you think about late at night because you text him about it, because he’s always there texting you, because neither of you can sleep and someone ends up calling and whispering secret scattered thoughts in hushed tones and –

And he honestly doesn’t know, if it’s you or him that slips in the I want to touch you right now, or Want me to kiss it better. Who turns it into sex so things can’t get to be too much.

Satoru would really, really like to think that it’s him, but the truth is that he’s reaching the limit of how believable his lies are, even to himself.

He knows, he knows he knows he knows that if he stayed, you would let him –

(If he repeats it enough it will surely become true.)

– but you both agreed no feelings.

Besides, it’s not like he wants to stay, anyways.

(Why won’t you ask him to come back?)

You know what Satoru is the moment you meet him. It’s not like he’s made any secret of it, either.

A whore. A man-whore, if you will. A player. Whatever it is. He slept with people, drank in all the sex and attention and then went on his merry way.

You get it. This wasn’t the first time you’d met a pretty boy who fucked around, not by a long shot.

He says all casual, no feelings, you smile and nod, and you go back to his place fully expecting to be disappointed because pretty boys usually suck in bed.

And then he fucks you within an inch of your life.

He eats you like a man staved. Hands roving over your skin, groping and squeezing in a way that would be violating, if his beautiful eyes weren’t wild and desperate.

His body is toned and smooth and perfect, unmarred skin that he presses to yours like he’s trying to staunch the bleeding of some invisible wound.

You’ve never felt like this before. Sex has never been this amazing. He props his stupid pretty face up on his elbow and he gives you that stupid charming boyish smirk and asks you if you want to go another round, red-faced and eager. It’s overwhelming and exciting and amazing –

And it’s terrifying, because it’s always like this for him, isn’t it? He just came in and gave you the fuck of a lifetime, but this is just another lay for him.

(But he’s having fun. It’s good for him, too. So why don’t you take what you can get?)

So when he saves his number in your phone, That was awesome, babe, we should do this again sometime, you don’t put a lot of weight into his words. You roll his eyes when he blows you a kiss goodbye, but you don’t delete his number.

Even when he wakes you up with some silly cat meme (god, you hate morning people), somehow you find yourself smiling. You let him know he can get his dick sucked any time if he meows cute enough and woah, maybe you’re coming on too strong –

He sends you an attachment of himself wearing cat ears, striking an obnoxious pose, with a fake tail that he holds by the end in his mouth.

Satoru Gojo, that’s the name. And you do suck his dick, like you promised, but he comes to you determined to get in character, meowing at you, pressing his face into your hands, rubbing into your side, nuzzling your panties while he looks up into your face with a smirk.

It’s a fight to get him on his back and his legs open wide enough for you to settle in. He meows again like a kitty, and purrs like one too when you take his cock into your mouth, hands threading through your hair. Giggling at his own antics.

Your eyes water when you take him, deep, moaning and feeling him shudder at the feeling, long legs squirming on either side of you. He pulls away suddenly, with a pop, laughing when his dick hits the side of your face and you glare at him. Sticking out his tongue.

He looks so young. So heartbreakingly sweet and charming. He pulls you in to settle you on his cock, face-to-face this time, his smile melting into something soft and tacky, sticking to your lips as he kisses his precum away. Infectious delight.

Satoru holds your hands in his, palm to palm, as you ride him in his lap. Face tilted up to look at you with a blush on his cheeks. Blue eyes wide like they have to be, to take you in, as if they aren’t themselves oceans you have to stop yourself from falling into.

You can’t look into his eyes when you cum, when he cums. You’re not sure if he’s looking either.

But you feel him, oh, do you feel him – hands squeezing yours as if in warning, face buried into your neck, a moan that vibrates throughout the both of you.

When you wake up, the next morning, you don’t even mind the fact that he’s still next to you, cuddled up, right beside you. You don’t mind, until you feel him stiffen suddenly, like he’s realized you’re awake, immediately pulling away.

That’s… you’re not sure what it is, since cuddling was obviously okay, so why does he not want to do it while you’re awake? It is too close? Too intimate?

He’d held your hands while he stared deep into your eyes and rocked gently into you last night, but cuddling would be too intimate?

But he smiles that smile before he leaves, stumbling a little bit while he gets dressed, in that goofy way that lanky tall men sometimes do. You even overlook the fact that he’s renamed himself in your contacts. ~ Satoru ~ My Kitten.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid (you’re smiling already), unbearable man. You want to hit him in the face, with your face. Very hard.

Casually, of course. It’s casual between you. No feelings at all.

But then he starts texting you all the time. He double, triple, quadruple texts, with the infuriating shamelessness of someone who’s never been ignored in his life.

Like he’s never worried that the other person is losing interest. He carries himself like it, too, like he knows everyone wants him, and unfortunately, he’s right.

So you tell him he’s annoying and you don’t look at your phone again. Not until he shows up on your doorstep with that pout on his impossibly pretty face.

And you don’t turn him away. Why would you? If he’s going to offer himself on a platter, why not eat up?

You’re just being realistic here. If you fucked him once and never heard from it again, it would still hurt almost as much as it will now. You’ll just be a little lonelier without your texting partner, but you’ll get over it.

There’s other fish in the sea. Even if none of them are as pretty as him, none of them make them laugh like you do. You’re not exclusive. He can see other people, so can you. You’ve made it a point not to ask.

You don’t like what he’s doing now. How he pauses long, makes you wait before telling you to have fun on your date.

How the next time you see him there’s something strange in his eyes, something that leaves him with clawing hands, hungry mouth, eager to leave his marks all over you.

Satoru doesn’t stop texting you, doesn’t stop selfies, thirst traps, prodding little questions and jokes, doesn’t stop obnoxiously demanding (begging?) for your attention.

At first it was an ego boost. Now, it’s terrifying.

Because now he likes you, doesn’t he? He’s interested now. Having fun. Making you feel like he’s jealous, acting like he’s on withdrawal if he goes too long without you, making you feel like someone as beautiful and rich and funny as him could possibly be in love with you.

But he told you in the beginning. Something casual.

Maybe these feelings are real in the moment. But one day they’ll fade, and everything will be yanked right out from under you.

You’ll wonder why he’s getting distant these days. You’ll remember that you never made it official, and sweat over the possibility that he’s seeing someone else. At the end of the day that’s all you’ll be able to do; worry and worry while you’re too afraid to ask.

You’ll wonder what you did wrong. What you did to lose him. How you could go from someone so fascinating, someone he so thoroughly adored and fucked like he was making love, to an afterthought and a stranger, unless you did something wrong? Unless you made a mistake, somewhere along the line?

The mistake of getting attached to him in the first place.

Fuck that. Satoru can develop feelings on his own fucking time. He’ll lose them just as quickly, you can tell.

This isn’t anything more than a hookup to him. He’s an attention whore who likes to hear himself talk, and you’re dumb enough to entertain him because you’re lonely and easily amused, at least when it comes to him.

There’s nothing real here.

You still don’t know where he actually works, outside of some nebulous high school teaching situation. Where he lives. What he does most of the day, what his parents are like. Where he’s from, even. You don’t know if he’s seeing anyone else. He could be married with kids, for all you know.

Not – not that you care. Not that you give a fuck what he’s doing, who he’s fucking, where he is when he’s not with you. You don’t care about him past his dick and what it does to you.

If you did care, you’d only suffer for it. So you draw the line.

You don’t need him, and you want to keep it that way. You don’t want to get attached, and neither does he. So you try to keep him at arm’s length.

Close enough to touch but not so close that your foolish, eager heart can leap out of your chest and into his hands.

Would he still give you that boyish grin when he rejected you? Laugh and let you down gently? Would he say yes and hold your hand while you walked together to the guillotine, the painful end to a relationship that wasn’t supposed to happen anyways? Would he skip away while your heart seized and trembled on the executioner’s block?

He’d look pretty even with blood on his face, you’re sure. But you wouldn’t come out so nicely.

So you don’t ask him to stay. You don’t ask him for anything. You take what you’re given and you savor it, but you try – oh, god, do you fucking try – to find someone else, something else to occupy your time.

But he’s just too good. You want him. And you don’t get to have him if you ignore his texts and don’t answer when he’s at the door. You don’t get to fuck him if you won’t even let him see you.

So even if you look away, even if your answers are short, even if you don’t let him stay (not that he even wants to) – you have to let him in.

And unlike you, he’s got self-respect. He’s got other options. If he can’t have you, he’ll just fuck other people, so you can’t push him away too much. You have to make him want to come back. You have to make him want to give you more.

But you can’t control what Satoru wants, and that is the problem.

It’s out of your hands, locked securely in his ribcage where you can never get to it.

He doesn’t talk about his life, his history, doesn’t even complain about work during off hours.

Really, it’s already over, isn’t it? Has been, ever since the beginning. You’re just waiting for the inevitable end.

“Mmmh… that’s it for me tonight.” You say, tired. So tired, and warm. Satoru always leaves you like this; loose-limbed and floaty, high enough to feel the drop. “You can shower before you leave, if you want.”

“Oh? I can’t stay the night?” Satoru asks, teasing, “Just gonna pump and dump me? So mean~”

You close your eyes, trying not to think of what his face must look like.

“Knock yourself out. But you can’t shower in the morning, you’ll wake me up.”

“What a coincidence,” He purrs, laying next to you on the bed, “I’m a late sleeper, too.”

Satoru’s arm around your form presses you against him, just barely. Not too close. Never too close.

You don’t say anything more. You lay there and let him hold you while you fall asleep.

You can feel it when he wakes up. How his breathing changes, how he stiffens and tenses against you, you tumble out of sleep instantly, lashes fluttering.

You shut them closed again. Relax yourself. You don’t have to get up. You don’t want to get up.

Why isn’t he leaving yet? What’s taking him so long?

There’s this tension that creeps into your chest. Like you can feel each individual breath he takes. Waiting for him to say something, shake you awake – but why would he? And why would you want him to?

You know what this is. You’ve always known.

So you lay there, still, breathing calm and even, until he leaves.

(…Come back. Please come back.)

[ifyouknowmenahyoudontt]

ranting about the fandom ( TW: opinions)

- remus is so badly mischaracterized, the shift from him being a soft sensitive kid despite the violent nature of his condition was so so important but now he is turned into this mean angry alpha male. i feel like the point of him being so sensitive was to contrast w him being a werewolf ya know. bring back weird and awkward remus

- gay ships that are just there because they’re gay is pretty strange. i’m speaking of the whole jegulus/pandalily/whatever new thing ppl come up with i don’t really understand the point of just thinking that making a couple gay makes them more interesting. seems a little counterproductive .

-jily loosing its popularity is killing me. bring back my 7 year slow burn prophecy beautiful love story they are the most important ship

-sirius being a feminine dramatic gay twink. this man was a motorcycle owning rebel strong guy. and believe it or not he CAN be gay and still be that. him being gay ( in our head canons) doesn’t mean he’s a woman

- turning gay ships into basically a straight relationship by making them so stereotypical ( wolfstar w feminine af sirius and strong man remus)

- shipping character that died and fought against a certain ideology and people that were actively apart of the problem is kinda crazy. like jegulily? my brother in christ regulus wanted her dead.

-fanon regulus. he was a strong willed DEATH EATER he wasn’t forced into it or abused by his family. it.is.stated.in.the.book.

-deatheaters are interesting characters BUT don’t tell me people are babying and glorifying them in a effort to explore their complexity.

-some of you are blinded by the fancasts and forgot all about what the characters are.

- the new fan casts are meeeh. they’re not all supposed to be supermodels…

- jegulus taking over the fandom is insane.

-andromeda should be getting the regulus treatement she is what you made regulus into.

-frank and alice should be more loved.

- the romantization of that whole pureblood supremacist squad is NOT cute.

-james potter my beloved.

- i don’t really like the idea of the casanova being remus. i feel like it would james or sirius based on how remus talked about his high school years

- jily is way too important to the universe to be discredited.

-lily evans being put behind regulus is CRAZY. my girl did not die for this bs

-sirius being criticized for leaving is wild. regulus was not abused and didn’t even want to leave. sirius was mistreated.

- i kind of like the idea of the developed character of walburga. sirius said she wasn’t a deatheater. and i like people writing her as a more complex character.

- as much as i love wolfstar, james and sirius’s relationship stays the central point of the gang.

-ships have taken way too much importance over the friendships of the group.

-i feel like a people make female characters into lesbians ( like lily ) just because they are strong characters and it’s weird.

- yes once she got married to james she was lily POTTER and she was a mother just like james was FATHER they’re is nothing wrong with that.

- jegulus/ any ship between a member of the order and a deatheater is just plain stupid sorry but if your head canons goes completely against the core of a character it’s just a wrong statement.

before you start “LEt pEoPle dO whAT thEy WaNt” these are MY opinions

please share yours i love to debate

[writtenfangirl]

Secrets and Good Luck Charms

Plus size!Reader, angsty turning fluffy

Listen, as a plus size woman myself, I know that the chances of an F1 driver being attracted to me is close to 0, especially when they're literally always surrounded by supermodels. But I can live in my delulu era, even for a little while.

I challenged myself to create a fic with top-tier begging and I genuinely hope I accomplished that cause this was so much fun to write.

Enjoy!

Part 2

“Charles, I think we should break up.”

The words left her in a sudden whoosh, ceasing her boyfriend mid-story. His apartment went quiet, and Y/N felt the little hairs on her arms rise but her goosebumps wasn’t from the cold. 

Charles’s luminous green eyes widened.“What?”

A part of her wished she could take the words back, snatch them from the air where they hung heavy like smoke. But she’d been building up her courage all week and she wasn’t about to back down now just because he flashed those beautiful green eyes that Charles knew she could never resist. She said the words slower, kinder. “I think we should break up.”

He looked at her as if he couldn’t believe the words he was hearing. “Why?”

“Because you’re ashamed of me, Cha.”

And there was the truth, the conviction that had Y/N’s resolve strengthening. Charles could deny it all he wants but Y/N knew the truth, deep down. He was ashamed of her. It was a truth that had been sitting in her chest for the better part of 9 months and it was a truth that had begun to eat at her as their relationship progressed. 

He said his next words slowly, like a child struggling to learn new words in a language he wasn’t familiar with. “What would make you say that?” 

She kept her own tone even, betraying none of the hurt that sat heavy in her chest. “Because, Cha. We’ve been together 9 months, close to a year, and yet you have never introduced me to your mother or your brothers. Not even to your friends. No posts on social media, no mention of my existence at all.”

He frowned. “I thought you wanted your privacy.”

“I do want my privacy.”

“Then I don’t understand why you want to end things!” His voice grew in octave and Y/N could see him fighting to keep his calm.

“Because, Cha,” she said, struggling to keep the exasperation from her voice, “you’re ashamed of me. I don’t care that you post me on social media or not. I don’t care if the world knows about us. If you want to keep our relationship out of the public eye, that’s fine. I know you’re doing it to protect my feelings and I appreciate it, I do. But, you refuse to let me meet your friends or your family for that matter. They’re the people that matter to me because they’re the people that matter to you. But I’ve never met them, even after you’ve met mine! And I’m—“ she took a deep, shuddering breath, fighting the hurt that threatened to have tears spilling from her eyes. “I’ve dated enough guys to know when they’re ashamed of me.”

“I am not—“

“Don’t deny it, Cha, please. It hurts even more if you do.”

His mouth snapped shut. There was confusion in his face, and maybe a bit of hurt, but Y/N saw the truth in them too. The shame that coated his eyes like paint.

“I know I’m not conventionally beautiful like your exes.” Y/N said, her words soft. “They’re thin and slender and they’re beautiful. They really are. Models and influencers that I could never compete with and I’m okay with that because you were okay with that. But I see now that you’re not. You don’t like that I’m big, that I have a stomach and huge thighs. You don’t like that I have stretch marks and rolls. And you know what, it’s fine. If you prefer thinner girls, it’s fine. I won’t hold it against you because I know some people just have preferences and it’s okay. But I refuse to ever change myself and hate myself just to fit into a person’s standards. I’ve spent so much of my life being ashamed of my body, I can’t do that anymore, Cha. I love you and you are literally the man of my dreams but I love myself too, and I love myself too much to let someone do this to me.”

“You can’t just leave me. I love you.” Charles rushed the words out as if somehow, his words would stop Y/N.

“I don’t doubt your love for me, Cha. Not one moment. I know you love me. But you don’t take me on dates in public places where people can see us. When we do go out in public, you keep a physical distance between us. You never even so much as look at me unless you have to. I’ve never met a single one of your friends, work related or not. I don’t think you’ve even mentioned to them that you were with someone. Never met Arthur or Lorenzo and I’ve definitely never met Pascale. You love me in secret and that’s not okay.”

He reached for her hand but Y/N pulled away. The hurt that flashed in his eyes made her want to tell him to forget about her confession, forget about what she said so they can return to normal but Y/N knew she couldn’t do that. She owed it to herself to do what was best for her, to love a man who loved her so much he had to shout it from the rooftops. 

“Y/N, please—“

“It’s okay, Charles.” She stood up from where she sat, pushing down her own feelings as Charles looked up at her, disbelief in his eyes. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Really, no hard feelings. Let’s just forget that this, us, ever happened. I wish you good luck with everything, I really do. I’ll pray to every God that exists that you become a world champion with Ferrari. I’ll always root for you.” 

“Y/N, wait—“

But she fled the apartment before he could say anymore.

And Charles Leclerc is out of the 2023 Belgian Grand Prix! I have to say, Crofty. Leclerc’s string of bad luck and terrible performance has really been a blow to Ferrari’s morale as of late. It really is such a horrible way to end the first half of the season, especially after such an incredible six months! It truly is such a shame. With the way things are going, what was once a tight race for the championship between Verstappen and Leclerc could simply become Verstappen’s third world championship.  Let’s hope the summer break gives him the clarity of mind he needs to get his head back in the game and the championship race back on track. 

Charles wasn’t stupid. He knew why he was losing and it wasn’t his car or his team or their strategies.

His abysmal performance could only be blamed on one person and try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to blame Y/N. 

Because really, the only person to be blamed was himself. 

Because she was right. 

And he hated that she was right. 

He never thought he was the kind of person who was vain or who particularly cared about the opinions of others. He knew what it was like to be scrutinized by the media and while he justified keeping his relationship with her private by believing that Y/N was a private person, he couldn’t justify hiding her from his friends and family. 

It didn’t even really matter to him what she looked like. He loved Y/N, not for her body but for her soul. He was the moth attracted to her bright flame and he would have gladly let himself burn if it meant feeling the heat of her touch on his skin. She was kindness and warmth and compassion all rolled into one person, the kind of person people wished God made more of. 

And he found her beautiful. Yes, she wasn’t thin but he never cared about that before. Y/N was beautiful in his eyes. The kind of beauty meant to be admired in paintings. Her soft, curvaceous body and her sweet face made her beautiful. She may not have fit society’s standards but she fit his and that’s all that mattered. That’s all that should have mattered. 

So why did her words, her accusations, cut him so deep?

Was she right? Was he ashamed of her? 

“Mate, you okay?” 

Carlos’s voice broke him out of his reverie. It wasn’t like Charles to get distracted from the matter at hand, but his mind kept wandering to his girlfriend. Or rather, ex-girlfriend.

“You’ve been distracted.” Max noted. 

It was the summer break, a rare time in their hectic lives when they got a chance to take a breather. One of the drivers, Charles couldn’t remember who but he suspected it was George, had arranged a little get together for them. Alone time on a remote island in the tropics far from the prying eyes of their fans and the media. Not all of the drivers could make it, but those that could brought their girlfriends with them. The irony wasn’t lost on Charles that he was the only single man in an island full of couples. 

It was the kind of outing he would have wanted to include Y/N in but wouldn’t have, choosing instead to stay at home so they could spend some time alone. It never occurred to him if Y/N would have wanted to come. 

“I’m fine,” was his only brusque reply. 

“You don’t seem fine.” Pierre chimed in. 

Charles tried not to scowl. The other drivers were his friends as much as they were his co-workers and competitors. He grew up racing and competing with most of them. Max, George, Alex, Lando and especially Pierre, were constant figures in his life. If there was anyone who could help him, who could understand him, it would be them.

But it was so hard to accept the help when Charles was so… down. 

He looked at his friends, saw the expectant looks on their faces and sighed. 

“My girlfriend broke up with me.” The words left him before he had a chance to think about it. 

His friends’ expectant expressions turned into surprise before shifting to mild curiosity. 

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” Pierre’s frown could only be described as hurt. Not that Charles could blame him. Pierre was his best friend and the first person who supported him when it came to his relationships. The fact that Charles kept his girlfriend a secret probably hurt him more than he let on.

“No one knew,” Charles said reassuringly. “Not my brothers and not maman.”

“So you were only together for a short while,” Carlos guessed. “What’s the big deal?”

Charles couldn’t blame Carlos for assuming that Y/N was only in his life for a while since he never told them she existed but the insinuation hurt all the same.

“We were together close to a year. 9 months actually.”

“That long?” Alex asked, surprised. “Usually you introduce your girlfriends after two months. You kept her a secret for nine months?”

Charles winced. What sort of excuse did he have for keeping her a secret? No flimsy excuse could ever justify what he did. 

“Why did she end things?” Max asked him. 

Dread pooled in Charles’ stomach. What does he even say? He looked at his friends, at their earnest and open expressions. He knew no matter what he says, they won’t judge him. Or at least, not to his face. 

“She ended things because she thinks I’m ashamed of her.“ Charles’ admission tasted like metal in his tongue. 

“Why would you be ashamed of her?” George asked, raising a quizzical brow.

“Because she’s nothing like my exes. She’s not thin or slender, she’s full bodied. I’ve never introduced her to any of you, not even to my family. She thinks I’m embarrassed to be seen next to her.”

“Are you?” Lando asked, judgement ripe on his face. 

“No!” Charles’ defense was quick. “I am not ashamed of her. I never have been! I’m… I’m more ashamed of myself. That I didn’t reassure her. I’m ashamed that I did something that made her feel bad. I hate that I did that to her.”

“Why didn’t you introduce her to us and your family anyway?” Carlos asked this time. 

“Because with her, I feel real. I feel different. A good different. And I know how cruel people can be. I know you might not have judged her and I know if my brothers and maman met her, they would love her. Maman, especially. But if I introduced her to you, then that’s one step closer to introducing her to the world. I was scared she couldn’t take the attention and run.”

“Is she why you’ve been so bad in track lately?” Max asked. 

Charles simply nodded before closing his eyes and rubbing his face in frustration. “I don’t know what to do!”

“Well there’s only one thing you can do,” George said in that tone he uses when he thinks he knows best. “You have to go after her. Go back to her and beg her to take you back.”

“And then what?” Charles snapped, unable to stop himself from voicing out the fear that’s been plaguing his mind, “She’ll still be watched by the media. Y/N is soft and she is kind. I don’t know what I would do if people say bad things about her and I know they will. I’ve dated literal supermodels and people were mean. What more someone like her? If someone insulted her in front of me, I might actually commit assault.”

“Mate, that’s up to her and you to talk about it,” Max said. “You can’t really take the choice away from her. If you love this girl, then be with her. Fuck what other people think.”

“Charles, all that matters to us is that you are happy. If she makes you happy, then we will be happy,” Pierre reassured. “You don’t have to worry about us. This girl doesn’t happen to be an ax-wielding psychopath, right?”

The rest of their group winced at Pierre’s poor attempt at a joke but Charles smiled nonetheless. Trust Pierre to always try his best to lighten the mood. “No, she’s kind of perfect actually. I really love her.”

“Then go to her so you can get your head back in the game and beat Max in the championship,” Carlos urged. 

“I don’t know about beating me,” Max smirked and the topic of their conversation shifted to playful jibes and jokes. But Charles’ mind stayed on Y/N, at his friends encouraging words and before his mind could reconcile what his body was doing, he was already on his feet, heading to one of the yachts moored on the island. 

“Where are you going?” Pierre called out as he ran from his friends, towards the woman he loved. 

Charles answered, his mind racing as fast as his heart. “To get my girl!”

When Y/N heard the frantic knocking on her apartment door at 1AM, she expected the worst. 

Which of her family had died? Which of her friends was laying in a ditch somewhere with their car wrapped around a tree? What was the tragedy so urgent, so horrific, that it couldn’t wait until the next day and had to knock on her door at 1AM in the morning?

But when she opened the door, all she saw was Charles, eyes wide and frantic. 

“Cha?” Y/N asked, not quote believing her bleary eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he grabbed her face, bringing his mouth on hers in a searing kiss that had Y/N’s eyes shuttering close and her breath leaving her lungs. 

She tasted the salt of his sweat, felt the searing heat of his hands on her skin as his tongue swept across her mouth, kissing her as if he was underwater and she was the siren able to grant him his oxygen. She kissed him back with equal fervor, her heart deciding what her mind already knew but refused to believe. 

She had missed him, wholeheartedly. And she knew that if Charles ever came knocking back, her self restraint would crumble like chalk on pavement. She would accept him, consequences be damned. 

“I’m sorry,” he panted when she pulled away, her mind racing. “I’m so sorry.”

“Charles, I don’t understand. What are you doing here? I thought you were—“

“It doesn’t matter where I was,” he insisted, his grip on her tightening, like he was afraid that letting go would cause her to disappear. “I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough. Cherie, tu es belle. Je suis vraiment désolé. Je n'ai jamais eu l'intention de te blesser.”

“Charles, slow down,” Y/N urged, pulling him into her tiny apartment and closing the door behind her. Her french was rudimentary at best and with how fast he was talking, she was struggling to translate what he said. “You’re speaking in French. I don’t understand.”

“You are beautiful.” He blurted, stopping Y/N in her tracks. “You’re the most beautiful woman I know. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you but I did anyway and I hate that I hurt you. I’m not ashamed of you but I am ashamed of how I acted. Forgive me, cherie, please. Please take me back.”

“Charles—“ Her phone trilled from where it was charging in her living room and Y/N pulled away from Charles it, ignoring her best friend's flashing face and clicking the red button to silence it.

“You deserve better than me, I know,” he continued, “and I know I don’t deserve you. But I will do everything I can to at least be deserving of your forgiveness. Please, Y/N. Say you forgive me.”.

“Charles—“ her phone rang again and with a growl of frustration, Y/N grabbed it, answering it upon seeing her best friend’s face flashing. “Y/BFF/N, I can’t talk right now. I'm in the middle of—“

“Did you see?” Y/BFF/N said frantically on the other end, causing Y/N to frown. “Tell me you saw it!”

She sent Charles an apologetic look as she answered. “Saw what?”

“Check Charles’ instagram! And I mean, right the fuck now! Call me back when you do.” And she hung up. 

Y/N glanced at Charles before following her best friend’s instructions, opening up the app and searching for Charles’ account. When she saw her picture on the first square, Y/N’s eyes snapped to Charles. 

“You told your friends about us,” Y/N said, stunned.

“I told the world about us,” he clarified. “I never told anyone because I was selfish. I am not ashamed of you. I never have been, never will be. I was scared because introducing you to my family and my friends means that you’re one step closer to being known to the world and I was scared you would run from all of it. From the fame, from the mean comments. It’s happened before and I didn’t want it to happen again, especially not to you. I’m not naive. If people can be mean and ruthless to girls who look like Charlotte and Alexandra, what more you? I thought I was protecting you. I don’t ever want you to leave. Please, come back to me.“

“I can’t believe you told everyone about us.” Y/N still sounded dumbfounded, even to her own ears. 

Charles gave her watery smile. “People should know about you and the love I have for you.”

Y/N wasn't entirely sure what it is about Charles that could have her melting into a puddle on the floor. She's been with good looking men before and none of them ever had that effect on her. But his confession, his conviction, had her abandoning her phone's incessant notifications, her arms automatically wrapping around Charles' neck, pulling him to her. His hands rested on her waist, ghosting down her back.

And, despite herself, Y/N felt her lips pulling into a soft smile. “You know, when I went to bed a while ago, I wasn’t expecting to see my ex knocking at my door, begging me to take him back at one in the morning. Especially since I know he’s suppose to be somewhere in the tropics on vacation.“ 

“Begging?” Charles raised a brow, almost in challenge, a small smile playing at his lips. Mirth and hope mixed in his green eyes and Y/N knew that there was never any chance she couldn’t accept his apology. 

She nodded, her smile turned teasing. “Oh, yeah, definitely begging. Groveling at my feet, asking for forgiveness. Never seen anything like it, to be honest. You know, some girls have a thing for that and I never really understood it before but now, I kinda do. I might not forgive him just so I can listen to him beg again.” 

“You are a cruel woman,” Charles said as he pulled her closer to him, his hands warm on her waist, his nose barely touching her own as his breath tickled her mouth.

“Is that what you’d call the woman willing to forgive you?” She batted her eyes, feigning innocence. “Even after she knows you’re only begging for forgiveness because of your losing streak? You did always call me your good luck charm.”

“You are my good luck charm.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in those things?”

“When it comes to you, I’ll believe in anything and anyone,” he said seriously before he grinned, wide and infectious. The kind of grin that promised an evening of debauchery and laughter. “So you forgive me?”

“Well, you did tell the world that I was your girlfriend so now I have to forgive you and take you back. I wouldn’t want to make a liar out of Charles Leclerc.”

He smiled triumphantly and this time, when Charles dipped his head for another searing kiss, Y/N didn’t pull away.

[aemiron-main]

ok not to dip into gay vs bi mike discourse again but i literally dont know what part of “boys only” people keep missing. mike has constant references to him not being attracted to girls. it’s literally inescapable in the show. not JUST him being into men, but SPECIFICALLY him NOT being into girls.

like people will say that “oh there’s a woman on the conan poster and thats bi mike proof” which a.) the shirtless man is very clearly the feature of that poster and also he’s got a shirtless dude dragon too, clearly men are the focus for him and b.) even if mike had 10 framed pictures of supermodel girls in bikinis above his bed, it still doesn’t erase all of the constant “not attracted to girls” lines/imagery that surrounds him. and that “not attracted to girls” imagery would lead me to believe that he was putting up those pictures of supermodel girls to compensate. it would be one thing for him to have stuff like that Without all of his “not attracted to girls” scenes. but he DOES have all of those “not attracted to girls” scenes.

It’s the same as when he says shit like “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls”. He’s compensating. Mike Wheeler is gay. He’s not into girls. It’s not even a matter of “oh i WANT him to be gay or i think bi mike would be BAD,” instead it’s simply a matter of what is or isn’t supported by evidence in the show. I’m not saying “bi mike is bad,” I’m saying his ass isn’t bi. What i AM saying when I say things are bad re: this topic, is that SO much of the supposed bi mike “evidence” is “bad”/inaccurate & that so much of the bi mike analysis is bad/inaccurate because 9 times out of 10, it directly relies on outright ignoring the existence of other scenes in the show (such as all of the scenes with references to mike not being attracted to girls).

It’s like, if someone dropped an analysis saying “well actually, dustin doesnt have brown hair, he’s a redhead,” saying that That analysis is Bad doesn’t mean that you hate redheads. it means that you think that the analysis is bad/ that the person who wrote the analysis is wrong & doesn’t understand what dustin looks like or what a redhead is/you think that dustin is Not a redhead & that the analysis is bad because they’re ignoring the evidence that contradicts their point (the obvious shots of dustin having brown hair)

I’ve noticed that hardcore bi mike analysts tend to try and squeeze and force the evidence to fit their conclusion instead of letting the evidence guide their conclusion. Many of them go into it wanting to Prove Bi Mike instead of going into it just trying to figure out What Mike’s Sexuality Is.

[riotouseaterofflesh]

You can wave a white flag; you can be an old woman or a newborn baby or someone else who visibly poses no threat whatsoever; you can be an Israeli hostage calling for help—if they see you, they will try to kill you. The five-month massacre in Gaza is not collateral damage, or an unfortunate side effect of the war against Hamas. There is no war against Hamas. Just this. The only military objective is to kill piano teachers and poets.

What I find really unbearable, though, what sticks in my throat like a clammy marble of rage, is the combination of mass murder and smugness. Israeli soldiers keep filming themselves committing smug atrocities. There’s one video I can’t stop thinking about: not even close to the worst thing the IDF has done, but maybe the most galling. An Israeli soldier stands in the ruins of a classroom in Gaza. He pulls a framed certificate off the wall and smashes it. He takes the time to erase the lessons from the chalkboard. Big man! How brave, this soldier encrusted in body armour and grenades! How heroically you defend yourself against a room where young children learn to read! But that really is exactly what he thinks. He thinks he’s being brave. Standing up against the oppressors of the Jewish people. Refusing to walk meekly into the gas chambers. He even writes it on the now-erased board: עם ישראל לא לפחד; the people of Israel aren’t afraid. Elsewhere Israeli soldiers posed in Gaza’s parliament building, grinning like they’d just taken the Reichstag. What a victory! This murderous ratissage into a city that’s been under Israeli occupation their entire lives, and their parents’ entire lives too. Then they planted dynamite around the building and blew it up. The entire country is mad off this stuff, and I do mean mad: saucer-eyed, loony. Israel’s foreign ministry shrieks like a funeral drunk whenever any government dares to raise an objection to its killing spree. Spain is Hamas! Ireland is ISIS! The whole world is made of Hitler! They also think they’re being brave. A lonely voice for justice. Confronting a cruel world with its complicity. At the Kerem Shalom crossing, protesters draped in the Israeli flag dance and sing and block aid shipments from entering Gaza. More famine! More disease! More stillborn children! They think they’re being brave too. The arctic glint of righteousness in their eyes. Even the more liberal sectors of Israeli society are getting in on it. Someone who was in Tel Aviv recently told me that most liberal Israelis don’t really have the emotional bandwidth at the moment to care too much about Palestinian suffering. They know what’s happening just down the coast from Tel Aviv, but it doesn’t register. They’re still in shock after October 7th, still worried sick for the hostages, still mourning the dead. It’s too early to worry or mourn for anyone else. The person who told me this didn’t think this Zone of Interest-style sociopathy was a bad thing. He didn’t understand why I found it so hideous. In a way, it’s also brave. It takes courage to let yourself really feel what you’re feeling, to sit with your grief, to admit that you hurt. It takes courage to be so emotionally complex. Not like the barbarians on the other side of the fence.

This madness is not limited to Israel. Everyone remembers being bullied at school. Even celebs, film stars, supermodels, beautiful and charismatic people, all seem to have had a hard time of it when they were kids. Some people build the entire foundation of their adult life on having been bullied as a child. You were such a misfit, you were so interesting and different… But nobody seems to remember being the bully, and I promise you that at some point in your life, you were also the bully. I certainly was. I couldn’t comprehend the senseless sadism of the kids who’d gang up on me, back when I was seven years old with dyspraxia and a speech impediment. What had I ever done to them? How could anyone bear to be so cruel? But somehow, all that stuff went out the window as soon as I encountered anyone lower down the totem pole than I was. My cruelty wasn’t senseless. Other people had been cruel to me, which made me a victim: anything I did was, by definition, fighting back, being brave. After all I’d been through, didn’t I deserve to experience the joys of power? Just a little? As a treat?

[cashonlys]

⊹₊⟡⋆ HOYEON JUNG  +  SHE / HER  ⊹₊⟡⋆ blasting first love/late spring by mitski through their airpods is  nari yoon  . oh , you don’t know them ? they’re the [ twenty six ] year old  model  who just went viral for [ snoring while getting her makeup done at a photoshoot ] . yup , the one that drives a  2018 toyota prius  . i hear they’re pretty reliable  , but others have claimed that they’re quite  -judgmental  . that makes sense , considering they’re often labeled as the old soul  .

links tba .

musings wishlist visage headcanons

bulletpoints .

nari is the daughter of a 90s supermodel. though he's only famous in association with her mother, her father is a tech billionaire.

nari really never had the chance to question if she enjoys modeling. she started before she hit puberty and has been at it ever since. she doesn't know what else she would do besides modeling.

a lot of her identity is wrapped up in her mother's success. publicly, the media constantly compares her to her mom. privately, she tries to appease her. making sure her hair is always done, standing up straight, being gracious with her parents' acquaintances, not doing anything that would be perceived as bringing shame to the family name... her and her mom are pretty enmeshed. after all, her mother is an aging model who can only live vicariously through her past.

nari has always been the responsible one. her sibling is a bit of a shitshow (i'm thinking an older brother, will submit as a wc later). she never really got attention at home outside of making her mom happy by modeling and making both of her parents happy by being the exact opposite of her sibling. of course she's going to fall in line if it means getting a pat on the head.

she's openly sapphic. i haven't decided if she's bi or gay, but she's definitely more sapphic leaning than anything. she hasn't made any public statement about her sexuality, but she doesn't hide her girlfriends from the paparazzi either.

she can be a bit pretentious. sometimes she thinks she's the only rich kid who isn't constantly partying. she's a bit of a pick me, but for parental approval instead of men. can be quite sarcastic and negative.

aesthetic is a healthy balance of academia and glitz.

constantly tired. most likely to say yes to an opportunity or a favor just because she hates disappointing people. without makeup, she has dark eyebags. probably has been hospitalized for exhaustion once or twice.

she's not very good at letting her guard down on a basic level. like, if you ask her if you have something in your teeth, she'll probably lie if she doesn't know you well. can be kind of cold. she tries to say whatever she thinks people want to hear, but some people see through it. i mostly see people who are inclined to like her falling for it. think her parents' friends at their parties and interviewers.

outdoorsy (in a non-athletic way) and bookish.

app stuff .

nari is afraid of the vigilante. how could she not be? they're after her father's associates; her mother's longtime friends. she keeps begging her parents to move somewhere off the grid with her and her siblings, but they won't listen. as someone prone to side-eyeing her peers, she understands the killer's motives. playing armchair psychologist has only made a few point their fingers at her. as much understanding as she may have for the killer, she's hellbent on following the rules and, ultimately, murder is wrong. nari is the daughter of a 90s supermodel. thrust into the modeling world young, she didn't have a chance to develop many interests and she followed in her mother's footsteps. the media constantly compares her to her mom to create hype. before nari was born, her mother married the ceo of a tech company, taking the term 'nepo baby' to new heights. aesthetic: complaining but ultimately doing exactly as asked, wearing a jacket as an accessory no matter how hot it is, gold eye masks, taking yourself too seriously, venting on instagram, carrying coffee around like a pet, showing more warmth for plants than your neighbors

[princesschngbn]

MinBin drabble.

Cw: Binnie in a dress, body worship, nsfw, praising.

~*~

Changbin wants to wear a dress for Minho. He’s been thinking about it ever since he saw the way Minho perked up and his eyes sparkled when he saw a supermodel wearing a very form fitting cocktail dress on tv.

“That dress looks amazing” he says, as he absentmindedly traces circles and hearts into Changbin’s thigh. He wants Minho to look at him like that (not that he doesn’t) but this is different.

The thing is, Changbin doesn’t think he could pull it off. He thinks that his muscles are too big and his shoulders are too broad. He thinks it’ll look weird in a tiny dress. So he overthinks, and Minho could tell something’s wrong. When asked about it, Changbin is almost reduced to tears trying to get his words out. “ I just wanna look pretty for you” he say’s finally.

“You are pretty for me, Bin. Always have been. And all those things that you might think are weird about yourself, they’re all my favorite”.

Changbin buys two dresses later that week. One with a deep cut that’ll make his chest look extra juicy, and one that made his ass look more plump and round, he knows that’s gonna be Minho’s favorite one.

When the older gets home, he’s welcomed my his boyfriend peppering kisses about his face. “I have something to show you” Changbin says, then he’s dragging Minho into their room and telling him to sit and wait. After a few minutes, Changbin comes out of the bathroom and Minho’s jaw hits the floor. He’s wearing a mint green sequin wrap mini dress. It’s stops just at his mid thigh and makes his ass shake when he walks.

“Fuck” Minho whispers.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it! You look amazing!”

“Are you sure? I mean, my arms are…”

“Changbin-ah…” Minho interrupts. “… come here” he says and extends his hand. He leads Changbin towards their full length mirror and pulls the younger man in front of him, and places his hands on his waist. Changbin averts his gaze at frist, but Minho gently lifts his chin to make him look at himself.

“Look at you” he whispers directly into Changbin’s ear. “Look how amazing you look. Fuck, makes me wanna lock you away with me forever so I’m the only one that gets to see this” he says. Minho then instructs Changbin not to look away from the mirror, and sucks little purple marks into his neck and shoulder. Changbin is forced to watch as his face contorts in pleasure with the way Minho was kissing on him, grabbing and caressing every bit of exposed skin.

“You’re beautiful Seo Changbin” he says, and pulls Changbin into his chest, never looking away from his reflection in the mirror. “Say it back, baby. Tell hyung you’re beautiful”

Changbin whines, but sheepishly repeats “I… I’m beautiful” his entire face turned red, and Minho turned the younger around to face him.

“Yes you are, and don’t you ever forget that. Understand?”

“Yes sir”

“That’s my good boy”

Minho then pulls Changbin into a heated kiss, pulling him towards the little couch and hikes his pretty dress up about his waist, kneading into the flesh of his ass. Minho then bends Changbin over the back of the couch and fucks him good and hard. All while telling him how gorgeous and beautiful and tight and amazing he is, making him repeat every compliment until he believed it himself.

[harrison-abbott]

Cristiano & Lionel

I wanted to write a lil thing about a ‘debate’ which I’ve always found bizarre:

Who is better: Cristiano Ronaldo or Lionel Messi?

This discussion has baffled me for fifteen years or so, and I find it odd to understand why so many people compare these two soccer athletes. So I thought I’d offer my opinion on it.

Who is the most attractive supermodel on the planet? Bianca Balti or Kate Bock … Hmm. How would you rate something like physical attractiveness? Is this possible? Because isn’t such a thing [finding a person physically pretty] based on subjective interest? You could compare Balti and Bock with, perhaps, the amount of money they earn and the amount of fashion shows they’ve achieved, or similar things. But why would that even matter?

People endlessly compare Cristiano and Lionel objectively. As to how many goals they have, and trophies won. Football icons are powerful people. Because soccer as a sport is the most popular on the planet; because they are famous, wealthy and successful: and lots of the eight billion folks on the globe covet such attributes.

At the same time: many people have zilch interest in soccer. Doesn’t intrigue them; they couldn’t care less. Instead they’re interested in pop stars or movie actors.

So which actor is the ‘best’? Or who is the greatest band in pop history?

Well – if you were to look at the music example objectively, it’d hands-down be The Beatles. But many, many folks say they despise the Beatles: can’t stand them. If you were to judge who is the finest writer it’d be William Shakespeare.

To know Bill Shakespeare personally, you would have to invent a time machine and travel back 400 years and go speak to him in a grimy part of London, where the entire population of the city drank from the same river that they used to dump their sewage in. Bill would not be able to understand what you were saying. Because Old English had a totally different accent to how English is verbally used today. This man would also be about five foot tall.

Furthermore, Shakespeare was deeply unhappy, and you can see this in his sonnets; which is the only autobiographical information we have of him. He was just as vulnerable as any of us are, and had a personal life in tatters. But in the modern age we know almost nothing about a man who changed the English language, and whose quotes and quips we still use in everyday talk, perhaps without realising it. [Football pundits love to use the phrase ‘comedy of errors’ when the defenders get all clumsy in the lead-up to conceding a goal.]

Cristiano Ronaldo was a man who built, paid for and directed a museum for himself. I.e., he made a building/museum and funded it personally, to prove how great he is. Does this sound like a man who feels secure with his own ego? 

If you were to go back to the history of the Premier League, and ask fellow footballers/managers who they thought was the best player. Paul Scholes was regularly the number one. Thierry Henry, Zidane and Vieira all said that he was the top player. And they were part of that French clique which won the World Cup, Euros – alongside the famous Arsenal side that were victors in all kinds of ways too.

Paul Scholes wasn’t a star in the glitzy sense of the word. Not goodlooking like David Beckham was; hated that sense of celebrity. But Ferguson [the most successful football manager ever] said he was the best midfielder of his tenure.

My whole point is that there are many contradictions and ironies within fields like sport or artistic achievement, and many clashing opinions which don’t seem to make sense if you look at them in an alternative way.

Do you know the Andrei Tarkovsky films? I looked at a list of fan-voted TOP 100 movies ever, from magazines like Empire and Total Film, and the internet movie site IMDb. Not a single Tarkovsky movie features in any of these lists. Thus we can assume that they are not popular in a mass sense?

There was another poll conducted by the BFI whereby they asked 400 of the top directors internationally what their favourite films were. Two of Tarkovsky’s movies made their top 10. Indicating that Tarkovsky is perhaps a ‘filmmakers’ filmmaker’: in much of the same way that Scholes was a footballers’ footballer.

When people say things like ‘Ronaldo is better than Messi’, is it not the individual who is making a fallacy? By saying person X is superior to person Y, this is essentially negative and minimalistic. The comment is supposed to be provocative and offensive, in order to undermine the abilities of an athlete which the commentator does not have. And most of it is subconscious.

There is no ‘best’ sports athlete. Even if you analyse it objectively, it’s not quite possible to label one man or woman who is the greatest ever. It’s just that people like that idea – of being the most superb, the ultimate gladiator, whatever you wish to call it.

Those who have a larger sense of knowledge in a particular field tend to answer differently to people who have a smaller knack of information. And knowledge is the key to harnessing a threatened ego. They will be less fearful of famous people because they are wiser, and such comparisons between figures are made trivial. In short: they won’t be as judgemental.

When a mind has a spanning resource of information it tends to not think between subjectivity and objectivity as black & white slates; rather looks beyond both of them and focuses on further intellect, because that is boundless and unlimited.

Please can we stop comparing Cristiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi? It’s so tiring, and people have missed the point for such a long time.

Fallacies like status get lost in history and individuals with ‘greatness’ are only as scared as the rest of us. Of course it’s hard to be less afraid of other people. But with learning we can grow a bit, expand, and keep on being informed, rather than judging others.

[starkidlabs]

I’ve been using dating apps for over a month now and I don’t know why but this past week guys just seem so much more idk desperate?

When I was first using the apps I’d have a substantial conversation with a guy for at least 2 days usually 3+ before getting asked out (and by substantial I mean long messages talking about different topics). While only one led to a date (and one to an awkward stare in the opera house), I kind of also realised that for my own peace of mind that 2 days of substantial convo was bear minimum before meeting (in another instance I agreed to a date and it was the messaging after - and the lack of communication - that made me realise things wouldn’t work anyway - so 2 days seems necessary idk). But almost every guy I’ve matched with this past week and a half has either asked me out literally in the first message they’ve sent (in the case of Hinge) or has asked me out after I have sent them 2 messages tops about nothing in particular, after a few hours (in the case of Bumble). And the worst thing it is normally the people I have matched with apprehensively because they either have barely any information about themselves on their profile or no real common interests. So I can’t even guess what they’re like from that, as that could at least provide me a safety net if I don’t feel like the convo has been enough. And then the people who I really want to get to know (because they have similar interests and are pretty) either unmatch me or stop responding after a single message.

It genuinely feels like some form of limbo. Like I’m going around in circles. It’s like the only people interested in me are the ones I’m sort of apprehensive about to begin with, that then scare me by asking me out too quickly. And then the people that can’t be bothered with me are the ones who I feel the most connection to through their profiles. (And to be clear the latter aren’t even like ‘supermodels’ just people with interesting profiles I can relate to). It is driving me insane. It wouldn’t even be so bad if I wasn’t matching with the people I like a lot, but I am, it’s just things never go further.

I kinda understand why so many women leave the apps so quickly. I feel like a lot of women, particularly those who are introverted or have anxiety, would be similarly nervous about men asking them out almost instantly. So if it keeps happening they’d leave. Probably a lot of women that are on the apps longer like/don’t mind going on multiple dates, which is great. I mean if dating apps work for you and you like getting out there on dates straight away, without the unnecessary texting, then that’s amazing. But generally with spiking on the rise I’m super wary of men, and like I’d be more wary about the guys wanting to go out with me straight away, because it makes it seem like they have so little interest in compatibility. And tbh I think almost every woman I know (who like men), would be similarly apprehensive about going on dates with guys who ask them out straight away.

I don’t know it just all sucks so much. I hate ghosting people so much, but I just don’t know what to say to men that ask me out too quickly (or in the case of this one guy - men that message me within 30 seconds of me responding - like that’s creepily quick). It suck’s that the guys I feel like I’m having interesting convo with stop responding. It sucks that guys whose profiles I feel drawn to match with me and never respond. It sucks that the majority of the guys that are interested in me either ask me out before I know anything about them or are weird about setting up a date after they ask me out.

I know I should delete the apps at this point. And I probably will by the end of the week. But I’m having such a crisis because I don’t know how to meet people naturally. I go to places I’d personally want to meet someone, museums, galleries, bookshops etc. but the type of guys that go to these places are also the type too nervous to ask you out. I can’t really go to places where guys tend to ask you out, like pubs or bars, mostly because I have one London based friend, and we can only go to pubs together so often (like once a month) and it’s unsafe to go alone. It’s just since my ex split with me the only people that have flirted with me or asked me out in a natural setting have been creeps way older than me (besides a gym bro who asked for my insta then never messaged me). And it’s like what do I do at this point? The apps are terrible and not working and they also make me feel icky because I hate cutting people off. But at the same time there’s absolutely no where I can meet people naturally either. I’m really fucking stuck.

[alyjojo]

Past Life 📜 Karmic Spread September 2024 - Leo

Preshuffle: T.W. Suicide, possible r*pe or abuse not described - very angry - someone manipulated you and left, that’s why

Meditation: White-hot anger, pure rage is all I’m seeing; there are no thoughts, it’s just burning inside, and I’m standing on a heavily populated bridge. I’m seeing the most famous one from New York, they show it in movies all of the time - but it doesn’t have to be that one. I don’t even think it’s in the U.S., they’re just showing me it wasn’t small or private, it’s highly populated with heavy traffic most of the time. Probably walkers too. You jumped.

~ The Past Life ~

Gender I’m Picking Up On (in the past life): Female

Character Card:

Acquisition 🥇 - Sun Taurus

Empathy 🤗 - Moon Pisces

Who You Were: Queen of Wands

What You Did: 6 Pentacles rev & 10 Wands rev

How It Ended: Page of Wands

Oracles: Tree & Bear

I’m not getting a lot of details about you: where you were, when, how, none of that. You were born to an important & prestigious family, one that hurt you greatly - but that wasn’t known. Tree with Bear shows some dark secrets hidden in the closet of your family tree, and I don’t want to get too much into it. I’m hearing it gets quite dark - though not always with you - and we leave that there. Imagine. It’s being shown as part of the reason you are resistant to dating & relationships in this life. You were someone very beautiful, and that was taken for granted time and time again. You’re also shown as the Lilies with this Tree, so your family may have been not great, cruel and twisted in some cases, but that didn’t actually apply to you, you weren’t like them…not deep down. Only on the surface. Empathy shows your real nature along with Lilies, someone romantic and understanding, you simply romanticized your life and had the power to make it a reality - Queen of Wands.

You were engaged or betrothed…I think you liked to use the word “betrothed”. This was with someone of the same status or similar, what would be deemed “an excellent match”, and you were overjoyed. In love even, you thought you were anyway, but more than that - this marriage came with high status, even higher than your own. That plays a big role in the downfall of your life - because it’s the pride and reputation that sends you over the edge…literally. You were very superficial and materialistic, but Queen of Wands is upright - it wasn’t a negative thing. That’s who you were, who your family was, you were born & bred to be someone of status. Others of your status valued similar things & acted the same.

The person you were supposed to marry went and fell in love with someone else, someone less worthy, less beautiful, something about them was less to you - and it was obvious, which only added to your fury, the public shame of it all. Like you were a supermodel and they are a grocery store clerk, in your mind, and you lost it. I’m seeing the book “City Mouse, Country Mouse.” Is that the book or is that some adaptation of another book? Lord idk it’s what I’m seeing. They were the polar opposite to you in every way. Page of Wands is showing having lashed out verbally to someone, probably the new person is what I’m seeing, and then the vision follows. You weren’t thinking, it was blind anger, you couldn’t face anyone if you turned back now, and that was all there was to it - you jumped.

~ The Present Life ~

What Karma Was Brought With You: The Tower rev

Who You Brought With You: 2 Pentacles

Additional energy: 4 Pentacles & 9 Pentacles

Character Card: Submission 🤲- Venus Pisces

Oracles: Finances

I heard “you’ve had a lot of false starts you really believed, and now you think everyone is lying to you.” During shuffling. So you’re relatable 🙏

You still have the same very soft & tender heart you had in the last life, to the point that if you would compare the two it’s probably the same. I’m seeing a difficulty with Mars, you’re not able to stand up for yourself, or you don’t like saying no. You could have Mars in Cancer or Libra. Or a major aspect to Mars that gets in the way, or it could be in the 12th House. It’s not easy for you to be aggressive at all, but the feeling still exists, it just goes inward and you attack yourself instead. A major life lesson is maintaining your independence (and money 💯) from people who will, probably have, and will continue to take advantage of you if you let them.

You’re shown as a giver, very generous, and I’m seeing this be towards your friends more than anyone. Love is something I don’t think you even want, you’re extremely guarded financially and marriage could be out of the question for you. You’ve either experienced this and are divorced, or you’ve seen someone go through it, you’ve already been taken advantage of enough times to where your own money is yours - forever. Money seems to be a topic of safety for you, right or wrong you are not someone who signs anything or does things “jointly”, period. But you are very generous, the other side of the coin, and probably have countless people you’ve given money to for whatever reason - because money doesn’t seem to be a problem for you. Actually, it’s a whole love language. You like to lavish money on those you love, and absolutely refuse with those you don’t, but it’s like…that’s how you can tell.

Your energy is showing up as feminine, and you are very social, very involved with your friends and their lives. It’s like their lives are your own - they’re all interconnected; but on a soul level, you’ve brought two people and they come together as a pair. Twins? Or together you are a trio. “My boys”, both are male, could be younger than you. Brothers maybe, or friends. Feels like friends. Maybe sons, could be, I kinda hope not because that’s not something anyone wants to hear…maybe tell me who the boys are to you if this resonates, I’m curious.

Boy 1: a romantic, a “sucker”, easily duped or often messed with, never fights back, a sweet boy. In the past life, this was a stranger on the bridge that saw you jump and wished you hadn’t - it haunted them. Strong empath.

Boy 2: very intelligent, a winner’s mind, an achiever, well-educated or will be. Could be currently working towards that. In the past life, this was the person you were supposed to marry, the reason you did what you did. They’re clearing karma with you in this life for that. Again hearing it’s not a kid and yet my mind is seeing one. A childlike personality perhaps. Could be childhood friends, it feels like a positive connection despite negative karma. Or you’re all cousins? Siblings possibly. Platonic 💯 I’m hearing “transmuted”…so by the relationship shifting definition, gender roles, whatever the thing - so does the energy between you, them & this karma play out differently…wow that’s a whole rabbit hole for later. You were never *intimately* connected, that’s shown as very important in this…transmutation? I guess. Another potential rabbit hole to explore 🤔 Good lord Leo I’m never going to come up for air after this one.

I’m seeing suicide play a role in this life as well, in that it’s made an appearance as a near miss, whether that was you or someone close to you. It didn’t happen, but someone got close. They have since healed, or will. You do a lot for your friends, you go above and beyond like they’re your family - Spirit wants you to keep your finances close, especially with lovers, and Appreciation at the bottom of the deck shows you as deeply loved and valued by all of the good people in your life - which there are many. You also need to be sure that those you’re giving to are appreciative of you. The right ones are. Everyone has snakes too, be careful, but you’re shown as having more good friends that you’ve earned, and you’re a great friend back. Even moreso in some cases, thus Spirit’s quiet warning ⚠️ about your finances - repeated. Especially with lovers, repeated. Only real message but it’s like hey, read it again. Because you didn’t really soak it in, or won’t. I’m seeing you have the same friends in old age too, and if love comes…well, it’s not your priority. You’re good with your tribe 🤝 Any person “meant” for you is going to flow easily and effortlessly into what you already have going on. An example is like a having a big friend group, and your fated person somehow already knows one of these people, making space for them eventually will be cake 🎂 and yet it’s still not your priority…that will be part of the appeal to this person, your utter disinterest 😆 That will change ☺️

[4lexnilsen]

alex can’t take his eyes off of helena on an average day,  when they’re working out together or hanging out at the library after hours,  when her outfits aren’t half as polished,  so let alone now that she’s all dolled up.   he doesn’t want to just stare at her,  having some semblance of decency,  but whenever he does glance up,  his chest constricts.   she looks like a supermodel straight out of the cover of a fashion magazine.   or as if she’d just stepped off a parisian catwalk.   so naturally elegant and classy,  yet anything but snobbish.   “you look amazing.”   it just slips,  rolls off his tongue before his brain has the chance to register it.   but friends compliment each other all the time,  right?   it’s perfectly alright.   then,  why is he blushing?   “as always.”   hearing her sing-song voice over the sound of christmas music,  pouring through the speakers,  he does as she asks and tightens the laces of her skates a little bit.   before standing up,  he also adjusts her leg warmers.   “did you do this when you were younger?   with your parents?   growing up in chicago must have been so fun.   west linfield doesn’t really have much to offer when it comes to ice skating rinks.   unless frozen puddles count?   we do have a pretty big hill,  though,”   he muses with a laugh,  dusting little snowflakes off his black jeans and offering her his now glove-clad hand.    

“thanks.”   for being so understanding.   for not holding it against him.   “yeah,  life happens.   but she’s premiering it in two weeks.   would you and harry like to come see it?   it’s not broadway,  but i think it will be good.   we could grab dinner afterwards?   all four of us,”   he suggests with a shy smile.   something strange happens when their eyes meet again,  his stomach seeming to bottom out without a single warning.   why does he want all four of them to hang out so badly?   just so that he can try and convince himself that there’s nothing strange going on between him and helena?   just to prove to sarah that this friendship is strictly platonic?   he’s a highly introspective person and yet every time he asks himself these very questions,  his brain refuses to cooperate and answer them.     

“well,  maybe he got stuck in the traffic.   you know how it is,  especially in winter.”   there’s a sympathetic smile on his lips,  his eyes incapable of lying to her —   he doesn’t believe his own words,  but he doesn’t want to straight up say that he doubts harry’s coming.   he doesn’t want to hurt helena’s feelings.   what’s wrong with that guy?   he’s dating the most beautiful girl in the world and can’t even show up when she needs him…   asshole.   “i don’t think we should stand here and turn into icicles,  though.   we should probably start moving to stay warm.   but we’ll keep an eye on our surroundings.   he should be able to spot us.   right?”   the familiar ding causes his smile to falter a bit,  convinced it must be a message from harry,  saying something along the lines of i’ll be there in five.   running late.   guilt seeps into his bones almost instantly,  though.   why does the idea of being alone with helena fill him with so much joy?   and the mere thought of sarah or harry tagging along has his insides churning?  he just prays his face doesn’t betray him when the notification turns out to be just a weather alert.   “wait,  is it supposed to snow tonight?   we’re getting a white,  white christmas!”

rested her favorite color purple to be clad in holiday colors. haired tied back in a braid with a small red ribbon tied at the bottom. clad in white sparkly ear muffs, a red sweater, plaid green skirt, tights, red leg warmers and red mittens. white puffer jacket– helena thought it'd be enough to stay warm. and after living in the windy city her entire life, she'd thought she'd be used to it by now. but here she was still slightly shivering, even under the shelter. she'd been ice skating a few times in her life, but there was some tricks she still didn't know. like how tight her skates should be. honey eyes fall on her kind assistant and teacher apparently as he fixes that for her, watching his hands lace up her skate. “thanks for reminding me, it's been awhile since i've done this.” glossy red lips pull into a sweet smile. can't help but notice how much more attentive he is than harry, the way he doesn’t even suggest she check her skates but he gets down on his knee and fixes it for her. makes her heart flip and yearn for things she wishes her boyfriend would do for her. and then his big baby blues just have to look up at her like that and— what if he was her boyfriend? the intrusive thought has her pink powdered cheeks heating up, suddenly… things are becoming very hot. “just a little more tighter, please.” speaking over the music they have blaring. U2’s version of baby, please come home. “oh,” the mention of the S word bringing her back to reality. he has a girlfriend and she— has a boyfriend. “yeah. i get it.” not surprised. it’s like she tries to avoid her like the bubonic plague every time. helena BETS she is very ‘sorry’ and things are hectic, undoubtedly telling alex what he wants to hear. but is it wrong to feel a slight giddiness? that she is a no show and now she potentially might get to just spend time with him. “things come up. and as for harry— i don’t know. he said he was going to make it in the last text i sent…” but she doesn’t see his log head appearing anywhere in the rest of the crowd as her head lifts up. right when she thinks it’s him and before she has time to feel bad for that insult, her phone dings. but not from harry’s contact. the weather app telling her ‘snow soon’. log head or not— it still depresses her that he always does this, avoids doing things with her that she likes and leaves her feeling lonelier than the last time he up and left her hanging. expressions had turn sullen for a brief second, feeling she really isn’t important enough before visage brightens with a grin, “oh, look!” helena exclaims, flipping her screen to show him the snow alert notification. feet then extending out, feeling a lot heavier than her red sparkly heels she previously had on but this time they feel a lot more comfortable than initially. “perfecto.” giving him a thumbs up in her mittens, beaming in content.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

original idea, m | kth

pairing(s): taehyung x reader

summary: Your boyfriend, Kim Taehyung, is observant. He noticed you started your period today and picked up your favorite can of sweet Thai tea on his way back from visiting his best friend Park Jimin. How nice of him until he asks you mid-gulp if he can go in raw.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; unprotected period sex, do not do this unless you absolutely trust the other person; established relationship; low-key crack; lots of fluff; shower smut (fem reader is on her period, handjob, unprotected, wall sex, creampie, doggy); non-idol!BTS, ft Jimin putting ideas in Taehyung's head, who would have guessed

--

“You started your period today.”

You cracked open the can of Thai tea you boyfriend handed you. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I saw the pad wrapper in the trash.”

“Oh.”

You took a large sip, thinking the conversation was over.

“Does that mean I can go in raw?”

You nearly spit out the entire contents of your mouth. Instead, you choked and swallowed hard, coughing and sputtering. “What?”

Kim Taehyung expression didn’t change. “Does that mean I can go in–?”

You held up your hand, coughing wildly, hacking the words out. “I heard what you said, I just can’t believe you said it, who the fuck?”

Taehyung seemed to understand and nodded, dark brown hair falling over his forehead.

“Oh, right. I was talking to Jimin and he mentioned–”

Oh, of course, how could you not guess, Taehyung’s best friend Park Jimin was putting ideas in Taehyungie’s little noggin and now murdering you as you struggled to breathe.

“–that it could be possible, because you’re right, it’s too early to have kids and having a monetary plan to prepare is a better idea–”

You were glad that Taehyung was interested in finances when it came to having children but he sure picked a weird ass time to agree with your sensibilities.

“–but I love having sex with you, so I was telling Jimin I haven’t been in raw yet and I completely understand that you prefer condoms over hormones since that might affect your mental state and I don’t like the idea of only you doing something like that to yourself anyway, it doesn’t seem fair–”

You were still processing the fact that Taehyung had told Jimin he hadn’t been in raw. What the fuck?! At least he loved having sex with you. You were staring at Taehyung slack-jawed, but he was scrunching up his face, trying to remember the rest of the conversation.

“–and Jimin mentioned, ‘hey, at least you can do it when she’s on her period, it’ll add more lubrication and it might even be better for her,’ so I was wondering if we could try it, if you’re interested.”

Silence.

You still hadn’t picked your jaw off the floor.

Taehyung opened his eyes and smiled at you. “Hm? What do you think?”

Okay, you very much enjoyed Taehyung’s eager, boxy smile, so that unfroze you, but you still blurted out your next question in sheer shock.

“Why did you tell Jimin you’ve never been in raw?!”

He blinked, tilting his head. “It just came up.”

You looked around, expecting Jimin to pop out and tell you you’ve been pranked. He did not.

“…. H-How…? Actually, don’t tell me, I’m going choose ignorance…” you mumbled, now taking another long sip of your Thai tea, but more like a swig and wishing it was forty-percent alcohol.

“But what do you think though?” Taehyung persisted, leaning down with his tilted head to try and catch your eye. “Do you wanna try? It might be nice!”

You looked down.

Someone was thinking about it for sure.

You looked back up.

Taehyung smiled at you innocently with a massive tent in his pants.

You stared into those big brown eyes and sighed.

“Ah… probably not. It’s going to be so messy and dirty and cleaning up is going to be such a bitch… I’m sorry, Tae, but I don’t think…”

-

“So…”

You stood under the showerhead, your hair wet and sticking to your forehead.

“So.”

Hey, in your defense, you were also curious.

Taehyung chewed on his lip, watching you inquiringly. “Hey, we don’t have to. I was being kinda pushy… but…”

You scratched your head, moving your wet hair out of your eyes. “Ah, it’s okay, I understand, I just… it feels wrong, you know? Aren’t you grossed out?”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Mmm, at first? But the more I think about it, the more I think, well, isn’t it natural? And you have to deal with it every month for many, many years, right? Plus, when we have children, they’re going to come out of you slightly, erm…” He made a little bit of a face but shook his head, spraying water everywhere from his dark wet hair. “Anyway, it’s not too bad. We’re in the shower. You like it when we do stuff in the shower,” Taehyung added brightly.

You contained your laughter, giving him a hopeless smile. “Why are you acting so weird?”

Now Taehyung turned red, his deep tan skin flushing, eyes shifting from side to side. “Um…”

You tilted your head.

He shot you a quick glance and mumbled under his breath.

“Idon’tknowhowlongI’mgonnalastIalreadydon’tlastthatlong.”

“What?”

He chewed on his lip.

“Nothing.”

“Oh.”

You reached up and pushed your hair back, swimsuit-supermodel style, and now Taehyung was doing more than glancing, he was observing very closely and very intently under wet strands of dark brown hair, curling around his strong features and moody brown eyes, his lips parting slightly, probably unnoticed on his part.

Looking like a fish wasn’t exactly an image Taehyung himself considered sexy.

Secretly, you enjoyed it because it meant he wasn’t conscious of what he looked like and was too distracted by your actions and your body to do so.

You smiled. “Why were you talking to Jimin about something like that anyway?”

Taehyung stiffened as you neared, biting his lip. “Ah, well…” He frowned slightly. “You’re so good at certain… things… It’s kind of frustrating for me… sometimes. I want to be better.”

Now you hesitated. “What are you talking about? Haven’t I taught you a lot of things? And you learn quickly and are amazing once you get the hang of it.”

His lips twisted into a small pout.

“For once, I’d like to teach you something.” He let out a small puff. “Or at least suggest something you’ve never heard of before.”

You blinked at him.

“Er… going in raw isn’t exactly a new concept… rather… that’s the original idea of dick and pussy in the first place…”

Taehyung scrunched up his face. “I know that, argh… I just mean… ah…” He trailed off, baritone voice now unsure and unsteady.

You saw he was rapidly losing confidence and you placed a hand on his chin, lightly lifting it with your knuckle. “Hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I want to try it. I just thought you wouldn’t like it, because… I mean… Period blood isn’t sexy per se… And I’m certainly not sexy during that time of the month…” You frowned uneasily, lowering your hand, but now Taehyung raised your chin, smiling at you.

“Don’t be silly. You’re always sexy.”

He leaned in, smile morphing into a smirk.

“Also, your boobs get bigger during that time of month, so I always appreciate that.”

Your eyes widened. “You noticed?”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “Of course, I noticed. I keep close tabs on your boobs.”

“Close tabs? Do you record the size in a notebook or something?”

He chuckled, tapping his temple with his free hand, the other sliding down your chin, tracing the contours of your neck and collarbones. “Mental notes. I remember all the important stuff. Your boobs are on the top of the list.”

Your cut in with your inquiring quips. “My ass? My mouth? My hands? My pussy?”

Taehyung frowned slightly and placed his large hand on your breast, kneading it as if he needed comfort. “Okay, near the top, but don’t make me order them, it’s too difficult.”

You grinned. “That makes me feel better.”

He breathed out in relief. “Whew, that’s good–mphf!”

You seized the moment and pushed him into the wall, pressing your wet body into his, your tongue snaking out and lightly flicking against his lips, taking advantage of his surprise and the beauty of his widened eyes to kiss him firmly, falling into his warmth. It took him a second to compose himself, tipping his head down to take charge of the kiss, squeezing your breast and running his thumb over your hard nipple, but you placed your palms flat on the shower wall and resisted him, dancing your tongue between his lips and not letting him catch it, smirking at the growl he made in frustration.

“We were having a moment,” he muttered.

“Mmm, I know, but I want my moment with him.”

Your fingers ghosted his thigh and he sucked in a breath as your hand closed around his cock, not quite hard yet but getting there, especially after your hand came into contact with it. You feathered kisses on his lips as you stroked his length, nice and slow, his other hand coming up to cup both breasts, panting softly, hot breath on your lips.

“You’re too quick…”

“Can’t waste too much water,” you chuckled. “And…”

You kissed up his jaw, adjusting your body to get a better angle, licking his skin lightly and feeling the vibration and depth of his moan under your tongue and lips, whispering gently into his ear.

“It’s kind of hard to focus when you’re so handsome, Tae.”

He let you have the moment, tipping his head down so your teeth could catch his ear, nipping at it lightly, contrasting with the pace of your hand, firm and intense, shivering at the thickness and the weight in your palm, savoring the taste of his skin, moaning into his ear, long and sensual, everything he liked and more, his head turning, black-brown eyes looking down at you under lashes covered in small droplets, adding to his already ethereal appearance.

“Let me…”

He leaned in, not finishing his sentence, kissing you long and deep and sweet, changing your positions, but you didn’t let go, toying with his tongue. He made a small tch sound of annoyance, shifting his hips, picking up one of your legs.

“Ah, w-wait…”

“Why?” he chuckled. “You don’t wanna wait. I can tell.”

You tried to hide the smirk, but it came out.

Smugness just refused to be hidden.

Taehyung grinned against your lips. “Thought so.”

Your hand was already guiding him. “This isn’t going to be the optimal position for you to cum.”

“Good.”

You raised an eyebrow and he thrust up into your pussy.

You sucked in a breath, relaxing yet still stretched out. It did hurt slightly. Taehyung was sizable after all, in length and girth, but you had practice and muscle memory, and maybe (definitely) a pain kink.

What? It was fun getting stuffed with dick.

Especially when it was Taehyung’s dick.

You? You were fine.

Taehyung?

“Oh, fuck…!”

Er, maybe not?

He had such a cocky expression beforehand but the second he entered you, it instantly changed, sudden tension in his strong features, gasping as he slid in, surprisingly much easier than you expected, perhaps due to the consistency of the slippery blood, almost stopping halfway, but you didn’t let him, firmly grabbing his hips and yanking him towards you, his eyes rolling back, whining your name loudly, the volume and depth reverberating in the bathroom.

“You’re so t-tight… fuck… soft… oh, shit…”

You let him run through every expletive he knew, holding him firmly by his juicy ass, enjoying it too much, but thankfully Taehyung didn’t notice, eyes closed, head thrown back, dark wet hair curling around his cheekbones. He reached up and pushed it away from his face, exhaling hard, slowly opening his eyes, hazy and unfocused.

“Fuck… it feels so fucking good, you have no idea…” he shuddered, twitching inside you and moaning once more, body shaking so he had to plant his hands on the walls of the shower, volume increasing as you pulsed your muscles around his length. There was slight pain from cramps, but not from his cock, and you could ignore the dull ache and focus on the pleasure, slowly moving your hips and biting your lip, feeling the added slickness of your juices mixing with the blood.

You often cursed your period’s arrival, but maybe it was time to reconsider.

Always good to find the silver lining in things.

“Taehyung…”

You rolled your hips and he gasped, thrusting back lightly.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he panted, swallowing hard. “Shit, it feels so fucking good, I can’t t-think…”

“I’ll tell you if it hurts,” you managed to say, pressing your hands into his ass and angling yourself to take him deeper, shoulder blades and head touching the shower wall, sighing in satisfaction.

“Alright, I’m gonna…”

He clenched his jaw, faster, harder, one hand coming down to grab a handful of your ass, you wrapping a leg around his and meeting him in the middle, increasing the depth of each thrust, both of you gasping at the tightness and the wetness, the messy slap and squelch echoing in the bathroom, water raining down on his broad back and spraying onto your chest, clenching around him so he could feel more, his eyelids fluttering, biting his lower lip, tendons on his neck popping out, and you realized he was trying not to cum, trying to hold back, so you gave his stiff length a particularly firm squeeze and Taehyung groaned, barely able to shoot you an incredulous look.

You grinned.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

You felt it, his cock twitching and spilling into you, eyes widening at the sensation, not quite as strong as porn seemed to make it, but noticeable for sure, pushing out your juices in a rough sputter, loud and obscene, flinching as Taehyung’s hand quickly moved down, rubbing your clit, making you squirm and twist of his cock, almost falling off but he kept his other hand on your ass, digging his nails into the softness, holding you in place.

“Come on, come on, come on–”

It didn’t take much, you were already turned on by the fucking and then the sensation of being filled up, and you cried out, trying not to move your hips, the high peaking.

“Tae, fuck!”

Hot shivers and burning electricity tearing through your veins, jerking your hips forward and tightening around his cock, harsh throbs racking your body you came, pussy squeezing so hard that you felt his cock stiffen again, swelling and growing inside you as your orgasm roughly roused him back to life, both of you moaning at the sensation, feeling his cum and yours drip down your thigh, hearing it plop thickly onto the bathtub below and wash away, stunning both you and him at the lewd noise.

“Whoa…”

You panted hard, letting out a tense puff as he slid out of you.

“That felt… so fucking good…”

You thought for a moment, catching your breath. The pain your felt was only from cramps, although it seemed to be less now. Was that the ibuprofen? Or the euphoria of orgasm? You paused on consider the differences, chewing on your lip thoughtfully.

“I think for me it’s about the same? You feel very similar with and without a condom.”

Taehyung shook his head. “Not for me, you feel way better, I don’t know how I can go back, the condom is seriously a nerf…” he mumbled.

You shifted your eyes. “You didn’t last… the longest.”

His ears turned red.

“W… Well…”

“My pussy is pretty overpowered, maybe she needs the nerf.”

He sighed, frowning. “True… I still stand by the fact that it physically feels better, but more time to enjoy does even it out…”

You tapped your fist in your other palm. “Oh! Let’s do it from behind.”

He blinked. “Eh?”

But you were already turning around, Taehyung stumbling back, pushing the showerhead out of the way and pointing it towards the wall so he didn’t drown, audibly gasping as you bent over and presented your ass, hands spreading open your pussy with one fluid motion. You turned your head back and grinned.

“Yes?”

“Oh, fuck, yes.”

You felt him position the head against your opening and he pushed in, slow, steady, both you of moaning at the feeling, centimeter by centimeter, this position tighter, more heavenly, giving you added control over your muscles so you could pulsate around him. He inhaled sharply, gripping your hips and forcefully pushing in the rest of the way, bottoming out, balls smacking your clit.

“Stop t-that, fuck…”

You let go of your ass and placed one hand on the edge of the bathtub and the other on the wall.

Then you rocked your hips back.

“Ah, yes, Tae…”

“Are you trying to kill me? Oh, shit!”

You continued and Taehyung had no choice, fiercely grabbing your hips to try and get you to stop, but you were undeterred, so he had to ram his cock into you, exactly what you wanted, the sudden sensation of the head hitting you deeply rendering your speechless, and he had no time to gloat, too driven by lust and pleasure to taunt you even if he wanted to.

“A-ah, it’s good like this too, oh, fuuuck, yes, you always feel so fucking tight…”

He had a good rhythm and pace like this, deep, controlled, fast, making sure to give you the powerful thrusts you liked, loud, audible smacks of hips to ass, rough and wet, and you knew you had his cum inside you now along with yours and the added slickness of your period, and, sure, maybe someone found it gross, but in this second (and lucky all subsequent seconds involving this very behavior that would certainly continue at least once a month) you nor Taehyung gave a single fucking shit, pleasure flaring up your core, the dull ache of cramps forgotten, completely focused on the feeling of his cock entering you over and over, your hand on the wall curling into a fist, hitched breaths and flinching shivers taking over, clenching around him, oh fuck, his rock-hard, thick length plunging into your tight, wet hole, too much, so good, your thighs tensing from the overwhelming proximity of release.

“Taehyung, oh, fuck, you’re so good at f-fucking me…”

You could tell he wasn’t talking on purpose, probably clenching his jaw to last as long as possible, but he wasn’t going to last much longer because you smacked your palm into the tile wall, gasping his name loudly, shot into free-fall.

“Gonna cum, fuck!”

That was all the warning he got as your walls spasmed, brutally massaging his cock and he hissed your name, turning into a half-moan, half-whine as he yanked your hips down and slammed into your pussy, fully sheathing himself all the way up to his balls, his cock jolting and spilling his orgasm into you, his hands on your ass shaking so bad they seemed to be vibrating, gripping tighter and tighter, rolling his hips inside you and moaning, prolonging the euphoric feeling.

“S-So good… ah, yeeeeeees…”

It took him a while to still, breathing loud and hard, holding you in the bent over position, the additional time getting slightly awkward, but you waited it out, his grip finally loosening, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you up, your pussy too wet and his cock giving up, sliding out, a mess of juices splattering out of you.

Good thing you were in the shower. Easy to clean up.

“It’s… too good…” Taehyung huffed, broad shoulder leaning against the wall to hold himself up, still clinging onto you. “Your pussy does need a nerf, but, fuck, I’m still gonna think about it all the time…”

“Good thing for you that my period lasts at least five days.”

Taehyung looked up to the sky and whispered his gratitude.

“I know you kind of hate it, but I’m still going to thank them.”

“Maybe I have a reason to hate it a little less now. It’s still inconvenient.”

“Yeah, but going in raw…”

Mmm, yeah, that still sounded weird. Oh well.

“You’re not going to tell Jimin, right?”

-

“You let him go in raw?!”

“Taehyung!”

--

masterpost

[writing-blog-iguess]

Hi, can I request a fluff and angst fanfic about Damian x female reader? In which they're into an engagement mainly for business, but Y/N was insecure about it because she's a chubby cinnamon roll (which she didn't realise at all), and she felt left out by the entire Bat family. And so, during a true or dare between entire Batfam and their friends, Jon asked for Damian's type and he reply almost like a hint about Y/N, leaving his teammates wanting to see Y/N. They did later saw her, but somehow one of them said they didn't know Damian would fall into love with this kind of girl, which hurt Y/N unconsciouy and she ended up wanting to end the engagement. Damian chased after her and calm her down with Harley and Ivy Poison stop by and scolding the entire Batfam and League of how much they made their little angel felt leftout and threaten dear Robin that they would hunt him down if he's not gonna say anything clearly!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!!!! I really like Harley Quinn and Ivy Poison!!!!

I'm so sorry for how long this took me, but I couldn't stop thinking about it when I read this request! Anyways, I hope this is what you were looking for and I hope you enjoy it!

Life wasn’t fair, she knew this. Had known this as she grew up. But there was a small part of her that hoped that life would go her way once she was old enough to make her own choices.

But that hope was stomped down when she started high school and her parents planned out her future. The only good thing she got out of it, was that she was allowed to pick her minor when it was time to start university.

Throughout the years, she avoided the questions from the press and her friends when she suddenly became friends with Damian Wayne. The only ones to know about the arranged marriage between the two, were her family and the Wayne’s.

It was in an agreement that when they finished school, they would announce their engagement.

There was nothing wrong with it, but as she started to get to know the Wayne’s, she felt a little out of place. Like there was an inside joke or something that she wasn’t allowed to know. She knew people had secrets, she even had secrets. But sometimes it hurts.

Laugher broke through her thoughts, blinking at her phone. She dialed a friend’s number and brought the phone to her ear. As she waited for them to pick up, she couldn’t help but overhear the group of boys’ conversation.

“I didn’t think he’d actually answer,” someone said, after his laughter died down.

“Well, the rules say he had to answer so,” another said with a shrug.

“I’m more surprised by the type of girls Damian’s into.” She frowned, and watched them from the corner of eye. They must be some of Damian’s friends, she thought.

“You mean like that?” someone asked, gesturing to her. She frowned and furrowed her eyebrows as she listened to them talk.

She hung her head as her mood soured as they continued talking. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t the prettiest looking, but she never thought Damian would be so swallow to go for someone that wasn’t her.

“Pumpkin,” a voice said, shaking her out of her thoughts. “You there?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah I am,” she answered, shaking her head and shifting her eyes forward. “I uh, I’m going to have to do a rain check tonight. Something came up.”

“Sure, I’ll tell Red. Let us know when you can, okay?”

“I will, thanks Harls.”

Later that day, she stood in front of the mirror, turned to look at her body. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t the skinniest or the prettiest person. But she liked to think her personality more then made up her looks.

And well, she never really talked to Damian about it. Why he had agreed to marry her, or at the least, broke it off if she wasn’t someone he wasn’t into.

She tugged her shirt down and sighed. Maybe it was time to end it. It’s been nine years since the start of the engagement, and it wasn’t fair to Damian for being sucked into her parents' deals.

Making up her mind, she brought out some paper and pen and began writing. Once she finished, she stuffed it in an envelope, along with the ring and sealed it. Making a quick decision, she grabbed her keys and left for Wayne Manor.

When she arrived, she spent a few minutes just sitting in the car, wondering if she’d have to talk to Damian. That was the last thing she needed, for him to talk her out of it.

Taking a deep breath, she climbed out of the car and made her way towards the door. She reached out and knocked on the door. She rocked on her feet as she waited, hoping Alfred would be the one to answer.

And her hopes were answered when she saw the family butler standing in the doorway. “Miss L/N, I wasn’t aware that you were dropping by. Shall I go announce that you’re here?”

“That’s okay Allred, I only came to drop something for Damian,” she answered with a small smile.

“I’m afraid he isn’t here at the moment,” he said, and she sighed in relief.

“That’s fine,” she said, and held up the envelope for him to take. “Can you, uh, can you give this to him when he gets back?”

Alfred frowned at the envelope she held, and she looked down. She was getting a little uncomfortable under his stare, and wondered if he'd say something that would change her mind.

“Of course,” he said, taking the envelope from her grasp. “Is there something you’d wish for me to tell him?”

“That’s okay,” she said, looking up to him. He gave her a sad smile and wondered if he knew what was inside. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around Alfred. And thank you for everything.”

“My pleasure, Miss L/N. I hope to see you soon,” he replied. She hesitated and stepped forward to give him a hug. He tensed at first and returned it, squeezing her a little tightly. “I’m sure you’ll be missed.”

“Thanks.”

~~

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since she wrote the letter, two weeks of ignoring Damian’s attempts to talk. Two weeks of listening to her mother whine about the broken engagement, and her father’s belittling her about how she ruined everything. Two weeks of Harley and Ivy pestering her until she finally told them why.

“But you love him!” Harley exclaimed, moving to sit beside Y/N on the couch. “I don’t understand why you ended it, Pumpkin.”

Y/N rubbed her face and sighed, wishing they would just drop it. But they didn’t and kept going. “Because look at me!” she finally snapped. Moving off the couch, she faced the two and gestured to herself.

“I don’t look like someone Damian would marry! I’m not pretty or…or…I’m not a supermodel. And besides, I feel like I don’t even fit in with the Wayne family. I mean, look at the family. They all have looks and great personalities, they’re fun and adventurous, and their lives are amazing. And then...and then there’s me who’s just boring and average who could care less about adventure. I’m just...meh.”

She paused, wrapping her arms around her waist, trying to make herself small. It’s the first time she said her thoughts out loud. It felt a little freeing, but it still hurt.

“The only reason why we were even engaged was for a stupid business deal my dad struck with Bruce Wayne. I would like to add that Mr. Wayne didn’t even look that interested in the arrangement, and neither did Damian,” she finished, deflating a little. Finally telling someone about the arrangement.

“Oh flower,” Ivy said, standing up and pulling her into a hug. “If he can’t love you for who you are or only cares about looks, then he doesn’t deserve you. You should marry for love, so you made the right choice.”

She rested her head on Ivy and sighed. “But it wouldn’t have been a loveless marriage,” she whispered, “I love him, it would make it a one-sided loveless marriage.”

She felt Harley join the hug and she closed her eyes as tears started to form.

“You never cared about your looks before,” Harley mused, playing with Y/N’s hair. “What brought this on?”

Y/N opted to stay quiet and shook her head. Ivy called her name and she sighed. She knew they wouldn’t stop until she answered, and she was afraid of what they would do. This time, Harley called her name, but firmer. “Okay fine, but you can’t do anything stupid.”

Harley scoffed and pulled away to poke Y/N’s nose. “When have I ever?” She gave Harley a look and she just giggled. “Okay, so maybe there were a few times but I’m not letting you off the hook. So, spill.”

She rubbed her face and groaned. “I overheard Damian’s friends talk about how they couldn’t see him falling in love with someone like me. And they're right, I’m fat, and plain looking.”

“You are not fat,” Ivy said, narrowing her eyes. “You’re a little chuddy yes, but you're healthy and that’s all anyone can ask for.”

“What she said,” Harley agreed as she walked out of the room. She came back a moment later with her mallet. “Come on Red, we’ve got work to do.”

“What? No!” she called as the two made their way to the door. “You promised!” But it fell on deaf ears as she watched her two parental figures leave the apartment. Mumbling a string of curses, she took out her phone and sent out a message.

Damian ignored everyone in the room, and frowned at his phone. He stared at the two words like it was mocking him. It’d been two weeks of silence from her and the first words she sends him is I’m sorry?

Scoffing, he typed out a reply and just before he could press send, the door slammed open.

There was a collective gasp around the room as they watched two of Gotham’s sirens walk into the living room.

“Man, and here I thought we were going to have a quiet night,” Garth complained, leaning back against the couch.

“That’s what you get when you say ‘sure is a quiet night,’” Jon mocked, Garth made a face at him but chose not to say anything.

“What do you want, Harley?” Bruce asked tiredly. Damian had a faint feeling that this isn’t the first time Harley barged into the manor.

Harley pointed her mallet at the boys and smirked as they squirmed a little. Damian narrowed his eyes, wondering if there’s going to be a fight or not.

“A little birdie told me that you are making fun of girls like Y/N,” she said. Damian’s eyes widened in surprise. They knew Y/N? But she’s never mentioned that. But then again, there are things he hasn’t told her yet.

“Y/N?” Wally asked, confused. He wasn’t the only one, one look around the room told Damian that no one knew who she was talking about. “Don’t know who that is.”

“Mhm, that’s okay. She knows who you are though. And she’s told us what you’ve said,” Harley continued, “about how you don’t see Damian marrying someone who’s chubby, who is a bit self-conscious about who they are. Which leads me…” she trailed off and pointed her mallet at the Wayne boys.

They narrowed their eyes and watched closely to see what she might do next. Their eyes were especially on Ivy. She hasn’t said much during Harley’s speech. But her glare spoke volumes.

“Why is it whenever Y/N comes home from hanging out with Damian and everyone here, she’s sad?” Harley asked, and the boys widened as they realized who they were talking about.

“You’re talking about Y/N? Damian’s fiancé?” Jason asked. Wally, Gath and Jon’s head whipped around to look at Damian.

“You’re engaged?!”

Damian chose to ignore them and narrowed his eyes at the two. “What do you mean she’s sad? And how do you know?”

“Exactly that,” Ivy said with a shrug. “She didn’t tell us until today, but we knew there was something wrong. Said that she felt like she didn’t fit in, like you just didn’t care that she was there.”

Okay, so she didn’t say it in so many words, but that’s what Ivy got out of it.

She watched and listened as the Wayne boys tried to defend themselves. She raised her hand and they stopped talking.

“Is that why she ended the engagement?” Damian asked.

“She did what?” Damian’s brothers asked in unison. He didn’t answer and Ivy nodded.

“Better go fix it, baby bird,” Harley said, pointing at Damian.

Not needed to be told twice, Damian stood and left, ignoring the protest of his friends and family. He chuckled when he heard the groans of everyone as Harley and Ivy started their lecture on why you shouldn’t talk bad about people you don’t know.

It’s been twenty minutes since Ivy and Harley left, and she can’t help but wonder what they’re doing. She had almost followed them, but decided against it. She’ll wait until they get back for the answers.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts, and she looked up from her book in confusion. Harley and Ivy would have just walked in, and she wasn’t expecting anyone to come over.

Setting the book on the couch, she got up and made her way to the door. Her eyes narrowed as she saw who it was through the peephole. She bit her lip and debated on whether or not she should open the door.

“I know you’re in there, Y/N,” Damian said. He sounded tired, like he hasn’t been sleeping lately. “Can I come in, please? We need to talk.”

Sighing, she unlocked the door. He looked as tired as he sounded. She stepped aside and waited until he was inside before closing the door.

“You didn’t tell me you knew Harley and Ivy,” he said after a few minutes of silence. She shrugged, keeping her attention on the door as she answered him.

“I met them when I was in grade 10,” she mumbled, “was running from someone and I asked for their help. Since then, they’ve kind of adopted me.”

“Do your parents know?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think they would care.”

Damian snorted, turning around to look at her. She was still refusing to look at him. “I think they would care if their only daughter was hanging around with Gotham’s most wanted.”

“No, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t,” she argued. “They were the ones who signed my life away. I mean, the whole engagement was because of a business deal.” She hadn’t meant to, but she let the bitterness seep into her voice. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter anyways.”

Damian flinched as she dismissed it, and reached out to grab her arm. She tensed but didn’t pull away, Damian took that as a good sign, and turned her around. She let him, but kept her gaze on his chest.

“My friends are stupid,” Damian stated, surprising her. “We were playing truth or dare and I was asked what my type of a girl was. I didn’t think your first meeting with them would end our engagement. I wished you would have talked to me about it though, instead of that.”

She hung her in shame. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just, I don’t know. On top of what your friends said, and the whole arranged marriage thing, I didn’t want to marry someone who doesn’t love me back.”

She froze when she realized what she said. She shut her eyes, and covered her face with her hands, willing the flush on her cheeks to go away. But it didn’t.

“You love me?” Damian asked, and she could hear the smirk. She didn’t say anything, she just nodded. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She shrugged. Damian huffed out a laugh, and gently pried her hands off her face. When she still didn’t look up, he grabbed her chin and tilted her head up. “I love you too.”

Her eyes snapped open, and she stared at him dumbfounded. He gave her a soft smile and leaned forward a little, resting his forehead on hers. “I love the way you are now, and I wouldn’t change anything about you.”

“Do you really mean that?” she asked quietly. So quietly, he almost didn’t catch it. He nodded.

“With all my heart.”

She looked at him, looking to see if he was lying. When all she found was the truth, she closed the distance and kissed him. She bundled up his shirt as he cupped her cheeks gently. She put all her love into that kiss, and he eagerly matched her pace.

When they needed air, she pulled back and smiled when he followed after her.

“So, does that mean we can get married now?” Damian asked. She pretended to think about it, and he poked her sides a little.

“I guess so,” she answered with a laugh. He pulled her into a hug, which she returned, nuzzling her face in his shirt. “Are we still waiting until we’re done with school?”

“Would give us time to get to know each other. Really get to know each other,” he added when she was about to say something. “And maybe this time around, you’ll feel like you fit in with my family.”

“Wow, they left nothing out, did they?” she questioned. Damian chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, Damian.”

“I love you too.”

[candyredmusings]

Monster High Profile Quote Sentence Starters

Quotes taken from the doll profile’s for Monster High characters. Change pronouns as needed!

"Do not understand why girls must wait to be asked to dance. Why can't we just go and dance?"

"[NAME] is starting to grow on me like moss. What? Is good thing."

"After 1,300 years in a dusty old tomb, I'm enjoying the glowing radiance of the sun."

"I love Photography class. After all, I'm the perfect subject for every class project."

"A nice gallop on the beach always helps me clear my head!"

"[NAME] says I'm an interrupter. I'm not trying to be rude, I just have an opinion!"

"[COLOR] is my fave color. It looks good on me, so that's what I like to wear."

"Some days, it's hard to not lose my head—literally."

"Here's a thought to chew on: If thrift stores started calling themselves "Style Museums" or "Adopt a Fashion" shelters, they might get more customers."

"I love art class. I'm really attracted to form and light."

"I love black and purple...especially for my stage costumes."

"I write all my own lyrics because if I sing the wrong words, my fans don't stay my fans for long."

"I'm totally craving chilly cheese fries today!"

"What should I get [NAME] for our anniversary?"

"I want everything to remain status quo. I will continue to dominate—socially, stylistically and epically."

"[NAME] commanded me to come to her house for dinner. Sometimes she takes this royalty thing a bit too far."

"Boys are so weird, and kind of adorable."

"[NAME] keeps giving me the cold shoulder, but I think she's hot for the [NAME]ster."

"I'm so excited about this weekend, I'm about to burst into flames."

"The idea of socializing with people my own age is pretty scary."

"Don't make me mad. I have a fiery temper."

"I may be a royal diva, but that's because I'm fierce and flawless when it comes to beauty, fashion and style."

"Of course, I'm superior. I'm a world-famous supermodel with a royal bloodline."

"When an idea comes to me, I have to paint it. It's instinctive."

"I would never plant a fake story. It could ruin my reputation."

"I know I can be shy, but that doesn't mean I'm scared to tell you what I'm thinking."

"I don't know why I can't seem to be anywhere on time."

“ I try to not make icy first impressions...but can't help being honest.”

"The darkest nights bring out the brightest stars.”

“ "My friends say I'm a little bit quiet and a little bit shy, and I suppose they're a little bit right. Although I prefer to think of myself as gentle, which suits me right down to the ground."

"I've been accused of being "perky" but I prefer to think of myself as energetic.”

[f1babe98]

The Arrangement

Chapter1

Warnings: fluff, little smut, swearing

Chapter 2

Breathe. Just breathe. It’s just dinner, it’s not a big deal. It’s just sitting down and eating food. With the greatest driver of all time who happens to be ridiculously gorgeous. No! Focus y/n. It’s just dinner.

*knock* *knock*

Aw fuck here we go.

I could feel my hands shaking as I went to open the door of my apartment. I stopped when my hand touched the knob and took a deep breath in. Lewis stood there looking as stunning as ever holding a bouquet of white roses for me.

“You look beautiful. Here these are for you.”

“Thank you Lewis they’re lovely. Are you sure i'm dressed right? I've never been to this restaurant before.”

“Yes, I'm sure.” Lewis chuckled.

“I'm just gonna put these in water, please come in.”

“Thank you, you have a lovely home.”

“Thank you.”

Why cant i find this stupid vase. Ah there it is. Now i just need to stop shaking. 

“Alright, are you ready to go?” I asked Lewis.

“Yes, let's.”

The ride to the restaurant was mostly silence and the radio. It wasn't uncomfortable at all, just quiet. Once we arrived, Lewis opened my door and took my hand. He whispered in my ear to ignore the photographers outside, but the only thing I could focus on was how his breath felt on my neck and the smell of his cologne. 

One we made it inside we were brought to our own room in the back. After the hostess left the room and the curtain that served as the door closed, Lewis pulled out my chair and helped me sit down.

“I thought you might feel more comfortable eating without everyone staring at us and taking pictures.”

“Thank you Mr. Hamilton, I appreciate that.”

“I told you, please call me Lewis.”

“Sorry.”

We spent a few minutes looking over the menu in silence until he spoke again.

“Did you pick that dress on purpose, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well,” he began, and what he said next is not something I ever expected someone who looks like him to say in a million years to someone who looks like me. “Purple is my favourite colour, and the way that that dress hugs your curves is making me want to bend you over this table and make you scream for the whole restaurant to hear.”

It felt like my jaw hit the floor. I just kept staring at him in shock and he just sat there drinking this complimentary water like he didn't just say what he just said. 

“I'm sorry, what?” I asked like an idiot.

He chuckled. “You heard me right. Oh come on, don't pretend like you don't know what you look like.”

“And what exactly do i look like Mr. Hamilton.”

I could see him gulp and shift in his seat when i called Mr. Hamilton.

Ah so that's why you want me to call you Lewis. Okay, lets see what other names get a reaction tonight. 

“You’re beautiful,” he started. “You have stunning y/e/c, perfect lips, gorgeous breasts, not to mention that ass. You fit perfectly under my arm, almost like you were made to be there.”

“Thank you sir”

This time the sound he made was almost animal-like. A groan that came from deep in his chest. He opened his mouth to say something but we were interrupted by our waitress coming to take our orders. I could see her trying to flirt with him but his eyes never left mine. After we placed our orders, Lewis ordered what I assume to be a very expensive bottle of wine. We sat in silence once again.

“You shall only refer to me as sir when I’m buried inside you or am about to be. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don't test me babygirl, you may not like the consequences.”

“I'm not so sure about that, Mr. Hamilton.”

I don't know what came over me. Where this confidence came from but after seeing the way he ignored the much skinnier, taller supermodel like waitress in favour of staring at me, I felt this rush of heat straight to my core and my ego inflate like the grinch's heart after whoville. 

“I would never do anything without your permission and consent. You can say no at any point in time, but after this dinner I would like nothing more than to take you home and have my way with you. All. Night. Long.'' Lewis said, again not breaking eye contact.

I swear I'm probably more red than a Ferrari car at this point. “You have my consent.”

We proceeded to make small talk the rest of the way thru diner and dessert as if I hadn’t just given him permission to ruin me for all men and fuck me into next week. 

After he paid the bill, he kept his hand on my lower back just above my bum as he led me to the car. Forever the gentleman, he opened my door once again and helped me in. He kept his hand on my thigh the whole drive back to his apartment.

“I’ve never let a woman sleep over before. Hell, I've never even let Nicole sleep in the same bed as me at night, but I have a feeling I won't be able to let you go princess.”

“I've never had a man want me to share this bed all night before.”

“What?!” he turned to look at me before swiftly looking back at the road. 

“What?”

“How could any sane man, or woman for that matter, ever let you go?”

“I don’t know. I've never had anyone really be that interested before.”

“I need to meet these men.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I need to understand how anyone in their right minds wouldn't want you with them at all times. How could anyone not be obsessed with you and that perfect body.”

I could feel the heat rush to my core once again as his grip tightened on my thighs and I could see the veins in his arm appear. 

We pulled into the underground parking garage of his building and he helped out of the car before leading me to the elevator. 

Once the doors were shut, he gently pushed me up against the wall and took my face in his hands. He whispered so quietly I barely heard him.

“I have been thinking about kissing you since you opened the door two hours ago.”

“What's stopping you?”

Without saying another word he kissed. 

He kissed me like his life depended on it. And I kissed him like my life depended on it. He reached down and gave my butt a squeeze and when I gasped he used the opportunity to slip his tongue in my mouth. The feeling of our tongues battling caused us both to moan.

We came up for air at the same time that the doors opened to the hallway outside his penthouse. He gave me one last sweet kiss before taking my hand and leading me to the door. 

If he can make me feel more with that kiss than any man has ever with sex, I’m in for one hell of a mind blowing night.